


in a little while… surely you’ll be mine

by mrs_leary (julie)



Category: Merlin (TV) RPF
Genre: Age Difference, F/M, Friendship, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-09-07
Updated: 2010-09-07
Packaged: 2017-10-28 07:07:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 25,711
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/305149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/julie/pseuds/mrs_leary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It is February 2008 and the cast of Merlin are meeting for the first time. Colin and Bradley don’t get along at first, but a connection is finally made once Colin comes out to Bradley. Bradley's feelings of friendship for Colin grow and grow until a hitherto straight Bradley finds himself in love with the man. But in the meantime, Colin – who tends to go for older men, and who appreciates a calmer home life than most young people – has set his sights on Richard, even though Richard is significantly older than his previous serious boyfriend. While Richard can’t help but love Colin, he does all he can to resist, knowing that such a relationship would be next to impossible. Meanwhile, Katie is drawn to Bradley and his good heart, but bides her time as she watches Bradley’s feelings for Colin play out.</p>
            </blockquote>





	in a little while… surely you’ll be mine

**Author's Note:**

> **Warning:** One of the minor characters is based on someone I saw in one of the notorious facebook photos. I have no idea at all who he is, but Colin looked so happy and relaxed with him, and I have to love the guy for that. So he became Colin’s ex in my fic. I think I wrote this respectfully. However! The fact that I even did this may bother you.
> 
> This was written for the **Merlin RPF Big Bang Challenge 2010** , with art by **glaringcandle** ♥

♦

[](http://s737.photobucket.com/albums/xx15/mrs_leary/fic/inalittlewhile/whilecoverfront.jpg) [](http://s737.photobucket.com/albums/xx15/mrs_leary/fic/inalittlewhile/whilecoverback.jpg)

### Colin

‘What kind of underwear d’you have on, Colin?’

‘What?’ Colin dazedly replied, startled fingers loosening and then clutching round his phone.

‘Briefs, boxers, frilly pink knickers… What?’

‘Um… Briefs. Why?’

‘Cos I was too cowardly to ask costumes what I should wear, or whether they were providing medieval undies, wasn’t I?’

‘Oh. Uh, I think anything that won’t show. You know, waistband or…’

‘Pantylines. Gotcha.’ And the connection went dead.

Colin stared down at his phone in astonishment. That had been Bradley James, Force of Nature.

♦

Bradley James, who would, for better or worse, be playing Arthur to Colin’s Merlin. Within five seconds of first meeting the man, Colin had wondered why he’d ever thought Shine and the BBC wanted to cast him, Colin Morgan, as Arthur – despite the confusion over the scenes he was first sent. Obviously _here_ was a prince of England, handsome, golden–haired and charming.

Five minutes into their first read–throughs, Bradley was perfectly embodying the spoilt brat, the only son and heir to a kingdom, raised in privilege. Within five scenes, Colin was astonished by how well Bradley – of origins as ordinary as Colin’s – could embody the quiet authority of a true prince… and then he completely undercut that with Arthur’s yearning for his father’s approval. It was an amazing display. Colin, who’d been quietly confident until then, found himself at times struggling to keep up. He liked the challenge, though. He loved the times they sparked off each other, so that the air between them, the whole room felt charged.

‘Excellent, Bradley,’ said James Hawes, their director for the first block of episodes.

Bradley accepted the compliment with a shrug encompassing shoulders, eyebrows, mouth – a shrug that managed to be both pleased and quibbling. ‘Thank you.’

‘But why don’t we try it once more from the top. Think about this – Arthur has wanted for nothing in his life. Except someone to _engage_ him.’

‘Ah…’ Bradley was obviously intrigued by this notion, and already visibly taking it on board.

‘Cool,’ Colin murmured under his breath, loving how quickly the two characters were taking shape in relation to each other. There was a feeling of inevitability about it.

‘All right,’ Bradley said. ‘Eighteenth time for luck?’

‘Fourth,’ James corrected. ‘But who’s counting?’

Bradley gave him the most charming smile. ‘I’ll get it right this time, I promise.’ And it was true: Arthur’s _Oh **don’t** run away – Thank god!_ were perfectly delivered. Poor Arthur, not even knowing that all he was missing was the other half of his equation. Not yet consciously recognising that he’d just stumbled across the solution.

Colin was impressed. ‘D’you have any notes for me?’ he asked, trying not to sound too boyishly eager. Hoping that James could draw an equivalently brilliant performance out of Colin as well.

But, ‘No, you’re doing fine, Colin. OK, let’s leave that scene there and move onto…’

Colin bent his head over his script, riffling pages in a rather pointless echo of James. Under the table, Bradley’s toe jabbed into Colin’s calf, and when he glanced up Bradley pulled a droll face, angled his notepad towards him. The studiously written note read, _Director’s pet!_

 _Twat,_ mouthed Colin – and was dismayed to catch a flash of shock, of hurt on that beautiful mutable face, before Bradley sniffed and turned away with a superior look.

Next time Colin saw Bradley’s notepad, questions had been added: _Did you bring a yummy apple for the nice director? Did you shine it up on your trousers?_ This was accompanied by a fair line drawing that made Colin think of Red Delicious apples, crisp and crunchy and juicy… and then, hidden from their director, Bradley added a surreptitious hand gesture that might have had something to do with shining up cricket balls, but then again might not.

James’ mobile rang with exquisite timing, and he got up from the table with a muttered apology, wandered off towards the other end of the room, already lost in conversation.

‘Nah,’ said Colin, leaning close to murmur in Bradley’s willingly proffered ear. ‘I didn’t bring him an apple. But before, when you went in search of tea? I let him take me apart with one blow.’ And he held Bradley’s gaze very levelly, playing it absolutely straight–faced.

‘You did not,’ Bradley protested in a whisper. He didn’t sound at all sure of it, though.

Colin just winked at him.

♦

That had been their first day together. A week later they were being driven in for their costume fittings – and Bradley, despite sitting next to Colin on the back seat, not even an arm’s length away, continued his earlier topic of conversation via text message. Colin’s phone chimed, and he dug it out to read, {U gonna ask wot undies im wearing?}

‘No,’ said Colin. The driver glanced at them via the rearview mirror, but of course remained unfazed.

{Black leather posing pouch is wot.}

Colin snorted.

{V medieval!}

‘Right…’

{U wd so fancy me in my medieval black leather…}

‘It’s true,’ said Colin, completely deadpan. ‘I do fancy you, Bradley. With or without the black leather.’

Their driver spared them another glance, though of course he’d heard – and no doubt seen – it all before.

But Bradley was blushing furiously, and staring at Colin, half wary and half angry – not knowing how to take this at all. Colin waited him out, not giving him the slightest hint of a clue. Eventually Bradley sniffed, and turned to look loftily ahead. ‘You are _so_ going to suffer, Colin Morgan,’ he announced.

Colin chuckled.

But then they were silent for the rest of the trip. And it wasn’t the good sort of silence, either.

♦

Colin had a vision of Arthur that afternoon. Bradley – in his chainmail, layers of padded jacket and tunics, britches and boots – swinging a sword effortlessly in the sunlight, and then taking happy part in a staged fight with Andreas Petrides. And he was beautiful and compelling and strong and golden, and everything a prince ought to be.

♦

A half hour later, sardonic laughter announced Bradley’s presence back in what they’d dubbed the rehearsal room. The man lounged there against the doorframe in all his princely splendour, grinning in delight. ‘I’m sure that’s gonna look awesome on the screen.’

‘Yeah, thanks,’ Colin flatly replied, lowering his hand. James, Johnny Capps and Colin had spent half the afternoon trying out different gestures through which Merlin might channel his magic – none of them felt right yet, let alone conveyed the easy authority of Arthur with a sword in his hand. Of all the things Colin had prepared, this had been by far the least successful.

‘Oh,’ Bradley continued rather more sympathetically, as James and Johnny ignored the two younger men, crossed their arms and put their heads together for a confabulation. ‘Oh, I hear they’re gonna make your eyes glow gold, too.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Awesome,’ Bradley enthused.

‘On screen, maybe. Right now, I just look like a right eejit.’

This admission won him a sweet smile. But then Bradley straightened up and swung his sword in an arc, his wrist strong and supple. ‘Yeah,’ he agreed, ‘you totally do. But they can probably fix that with CGI, too.’

‘Prat!’ Colin yelled as Bradley headed off down the corridor.

‘Moron!’ came floating back happily.

‘All right, all right,’ grumbled Johnny as he and James returned to the two seats lined up directly in front of Colin. ‘Less of the method, more of the acting.’

Colin sighed and tried once again. Old English, glowing eyes, odd hand gestures… Basically looking like a fool. Maybe he should have insisted on auditioning for Arthur after all.

♦

There were only three steps leading up to the front door of the offices, but on occasion even this was too much for Colin’s basic motor skills. He was teetering dangerously forwards when an arm slipped round his waist to steady him. ‘How do you fall _up_ a flight of three stairs?’

A light sweet voice, a Dublin accent. Colin turned a bit too quickly – teetered dangerously over a tiny beautiful young woman – which might have even been a smooth move if he were that way inclined, because she was forced to keep hold of him. ‘You’d be Katie McGrath!’ he announced, his brogue thickening in fellow feeling.

‘Then you’d be Colin Morgan.’

‘Cast for my outstanding physical grace, obviously.’

‘Obviously.’ She was grinning at him, perhaps slightly reserved somewhere under the sweet happiness.

‘You coming in?’ he asked once they were both safe on the broad top step.

Katie turned away, frowning out at the bland industrial landscape. ‘Actually, I’m early. Too early. I might just take a few breaths before I brave The Powers That Be.’

‘Want company?’

‘Sure,’ with a light shrug. But the smile faded now before it even began.

‘Actually, I’m not meant to even climb stairs without a minder,’ Colin confessed, doing his best to add a roguish twinkle to his eye.

‘Like Queen Victoria when she was young?’

‘Just so. D’you know how most actors are banned from parachuting and downhill skiing during a production? I’m banned from anything involving staircases.’

‘Ascending or descending…?’

‘Or even standing near one. Uh, and anything to do with boiling water, sharp knives, toothpicks –’

‘Toothpicks.’

‘Don’t even ask. You’re better off.’ Then Colin grinned, echoing Katie’s broad and easy smile. ‘Wanna come in now?’ he asked. ‘I’ll come in with you, if you like. Actually, you’d be doing me a favour, cos you can reassure them that you helped me with the stairs.’

‘Sure.’

‘Anyway, I think we’re doing a read–through together, you and me.’

‘Cool,’ she said, all warmth and beauty and brightness.

♦

Half an hour later Katie flashed him a look of terror, and then turned a bland expression towards James. ‘Sorry. I just lost it for a moment.’

‘We’re getting there, Katie,’ the director said, apparently too confident in how they were all progressing to even bother going for a reassuring tone. ‘Perhaps, Colin, you’d excuse us for a few minutes?’

‘Sure.’ He took himself outside again, wandered around aimlessly with his hands stuffed into his pockets. The scene they’d been doing was new to him, and had something of the draft about it, even something aimless, as if it had been put together hastily as a way of assessing how he and Katie worked together. And Colin had been delivering the line, _We all have secrets, my lady. A fair appearance may hide a foul truth. Or there may be nothing to conceal._

 _Nothing? Do you mean she’s an empty shell?_ Morgana was to respond in alarm.

 _No, I only meant that she might be as good as she appears fair._

But Katie kept baulking at that line, at first panicked and then terrified. Colin pondered why, and whether the reasons behind her reaction were as obvious as they seemed.

It wasn’t long before she appeared at his elbow as he turned back towards the main building. ‘Sorry –’

‘No, _I’m_ sorry. I was probably throwing you out of your rhythm. I’ve been running lines with Bradley, and the character’s starting to firm up already.’

‘But –’ she protested.

‘I should have been more open. Merlin doesn’t only relate to Arthur, after all. I should have let you find your own way, I should have let it be more organic.’

‘Colin, _no_ ,’ Katie insisted, at last shutting him up. They considered each other in silence for a moment or two. ‘You know, a wise person once said, _Your playing small does not serve the world. There is nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won't feel insecure around you. We are all meant to shine, as children do._ ’

‘Nelson Mandela.’

She smiled at him, softly. ‘Mandela was quoting a woman named Marianne Williamson, actually. But that’s not the point. The point is, you should do your own thing, Colin. You should shine – no pun intended. You’re brilliant. It would be an honour to work with you.’

‘Would be…?’ he queried, confused by the tense.

‘Katie!’ someone called from the front door. ‘Can you come see Johnny? He has a few minutes now.’

‘I’ll be right there.’ She looked up at Colin, solemn. Put her hand out to shake his. He obliged her, confused. ‘It’s been grand.’

‘Yeah. But, Katie –’

‘Goodbye.’ And she strode off, back tall, head high.

It was a few days and several drinks later before she explained. Almost ever since she’d received the call about winning the part, she’d been expecting to be dropped again just as soon as The Powers That Be realised what a mistake they’d made.

♦

Then there was Richard. Richard Wilson. At the first proper gathering of the cast, Bradley had immediately headed for Anthony Head – intently focussed, as if there were no one else at all in the room – but that was fair enough because they’d be working together so closely, and anyway Bradley had already confessed to Colin that he was a bit of a _Buffy_ fan. So Colin felt no scruples in heading for Richard, who’d be playing Merlin’s mentor and father figure Gaius.

Richard greeted him with a warm smile and an immediate sense of engagement. Colin soon found himself gushing over what he’d heard about Richard’s Actor Centre workshops, about the transformation wrought on one of his friends, while Richard listened with a modest kind of pleasure. ‘I’m going to learn so much from working with you,’ Colin concluded. ‘The minimalism, the being rather than doing…’

‘Ah,’ Richard at last cut off his rambling. ‘But I hear such great things about you – your unexpected choices, the _thought_ you put into a role though the _effect_ is so visceral. I’m sure I’ll be learning from you as well.’

Colin laughed happily. ‘I don’t expect there’s anything at all I could teach you.’

‘There will be,’ Richard promised him. ‘That’s true of anyone, of course, but I suspect it will prove particularly true of you, Colin.’

‘It’s brilliant that you think that,’ he found himself babbling – wondering if Bradley was keeping his composure any better than Colin while talking with his hero. ‘I mean, not about me, but it’s so cool that you still feel you’re learning.’

‘At my age…?’

‘At any age.’

Richard smiled. ‘I’m glad you see it that way. Too many people either think they know it all already, or have given up.’

‘I’m never giving up,’ Colin found himself fervently vowing.

‘Good,’ said Richard, firmly, with his eyes solemnly twinkling. ‘Colin, it’s going to be such a great pleasure to work with you.’

‘Likewise.’ And by simple warm instinct they clasped each other’s hands in mutual gratitude and reassurance. In, Colin dared to hope, mutual interest.

♦

### Richard

Colin Morgan seemed to have no idea of how very beautiful he was. He would throw himself into his performance as Merlin, every thought transparent, every feeling proved upon the pulses, every action and reaction wholly within the moment – with no thought at all about how attractive or otherwise he might appear. Bradley’s performance as Arthur was similar much of the time, although he also allowed Arthur a few moments of reflection, and more considered responses. The difference being that Bradley James knew very well that he was beautiful, and actively sought to underplay the fact, undermine it, obviously not wanting to be appreciated merely for his looks. Colin honestly seemed to have no idea – to the extent that Richard wondered how Colin would approach a role that required him to handsome. It was an intriguing thought.

Colin Morgan was intriguing.

And the talent of him! It was astonishing in so young a man – though Richard soon realised that Colin had known what he wanted to do almost since he first became conscious of such things, and he’d immediately begun working diligently and single–mindedly towards his goal. Colin had years more effort and thought behind him than most would suspect. He put so much more care and creativity into his work than even the most demanding director or producer could ask. Even his reputation for unexpected choices fell far short of reality. He would effectively convey everything that he was required to, and more – but do it in ways no one could foresee. Richard felt not only engaged by Colin’s approach, but challenged to attempt something of it himself. Their scenes as Merlin and Gaius were an utter joy to be part of.

Colin Morgan was inspiring.

Apart from which, he was a perfect companion. Good–humoured and even–tempered. Always ready with a smile to bestow or a laugh to share. Well–read and interested in becoming more so. Thoughtful enough for a profound conversation while relaxed enough for the relief of some undemanding nonsense. Generous–hearted, fair–minded and well–mannered in ways Richard couldn’t even claim to be nostalgic for, because no one he’d encountered in all his long life had combined such a perfectly unassuming, unassumingly perfect range of virtues.

Colin Morgan was enchanting.

Richard would have to keep his thoughts very much to himself. He had felt he must be years – decades – past making a fool of himself in such a way. But apparently not. Much to his mingled delight and chagrin, Richard was already halfway to falling in love.

♦

### Bradley

They hardly had any scenes together at all, or not yet, so when Bradley needed a break from the work he headed for Angel Coulby, who was sweet and funny and somewhat more grown–up than the rest of the younger cast. Somewhat more grown–up than Tony, on occasion, too, especially when he got into one of his never–ending giggling fits. And who’d have thought Bradley would find maturity so relaxing to be around? Anyway, Bradley figured he and Angel had a chance at forming a real friendship, and of course they would be working closely together at some stage in the future as Gwen and Arthur, so they might as well get the bonding done now.

‘I almost twisted my shapely ankle today,’ Bradley would inform her – or whatever that day’s adventure or misadventure had been – putting on his best brave face while letting his lower lip tremble. ‘And I think I bruised my rather delectable rear.’

And she would let her script or magazine or whatever fall to rest in her lap, and she’d say, ‘Awww…’ with just the right tone of bracing sympathy, and then she’d ask, ‘What happened?’ as if she actually wanted to know.

‘Final rehearsal for the fight with Will tomorrow, and this tree root positively _leapt_ out of the ground and tried to trip me up!’ He acted this out for her, with much flailing. ‘So I _wrenched_ myself around, trying to stay upright – only Will was _right there_ , and I was gonna knock him over if I kept going – so I nobly fell on my sword instead!’

‘You fell on your sword?’ she echoed, laughing – but her hands were at her mouth, almost as if praying, which meant she was concerned as well as amused. ‘I’m glad you don’t mean that.’

‘Mean what?’ Bradley gestured at the floor. ‘It was lying on the ground by then. I sat on the hilt! I’m sure I’ve got this weird bruise now, from the cross–guard…’

‘Honestly,’ Katie exclaimed in her light brogue, laughter making each syllable sound like raindrops falling. ‘The things you boys get up to for kicks…’

‘McGrath,’ he acknowledged darkly, drawing himself properly upright as he watched her walk in.

‘Sitting on sword hilts, is it now? I hope you didn’t have too much trouble with the pommel.’ She slipped down to sit beside Angel, jostling shoulders and amused glances with her in an infinitely comfortable way.

Bradley felt stupid and stiff and ridiculous, but he tried for lofty: ‘I really don’t know _what_  –’

‘What a pommel is?’ Katie retorted. ‘Or what a thrill it might give you?’

‘You are _beyond_ wicked, McGrath. Light–years beyond!’ And he stalked off while he could, ignoring the chimes of lilting laughter that trailed after him.

The problem was, Bradley had no idea what to do with himself around Katie. It didn’t help that she was so phenomenally fucking beautiful, of course, with her perfect little bundle of womanly charms and her endless grey eyes and her astonishingly sculpted face. But that was only the start of it. Bradley knew that he himself had been born with the kind of looks that were considered handsome in the here–and–now of space–time, and he wasn’t unaware that this served him well as an actor and as a man – but he _hated_ it, he hated it like nothing else when people couldn’t or wouldn’t see beyond the surface. But of course when he looked beyond the surface of Katie McGrath, the next thing he found was a brain the size of a planet. And the thing after that was an evil sense of humour, which was definitely a positive – or would have been if they hadn’t already settled into this pattern where Katie scoffed at him and Bradley ran away.

He found himself wandering past Colin, and decided to hang with him for a while instead. Of course, Colin was also phenomenally beautiful, incredibly brainy, and evilly humoured, not to mention Irish and therefore probably just as perverse as McGrath – but at least he didn’t scoff. The two of them didn’t really get along, but Colin didn’t seem to mind that or expect anything else, so Bradley just shrugged and only occasionally fretted over what it was he was doing wrong. Because actually he was used to being able to get along with people.

‘Hey,’ said Bradley as he slumped down in the director’s chair beside Colin.

‘Hey,’ Colin replied, barely glancing up from his book. But then he did a double–take, and turned towards Bradley. ‘You look like a month of wet Sundays. What’s up?’

Bradley sniffed. ‘Only Katie McGrath could take an innocent remark about a man nobly falling on his sword, and turn it into filthy innuendo.’

‘Ah…’ Colin thought about this for barely a heartbeat before chuckling wickedly. ‘Ah, yes…’ he murmured appreciatively, as if actually considering the possibilities…

‘What is _wrong_ with you people?’ Bradley demanded.

But matters swiftly moved on as one of the medical crew suddenly appeared, and knelt before Colin Morgan. Honestly – _knelt_ before him – actually, like, _genuflecting_. ‘Right hand or left?’ the guy intoned.

‘Left, thanks,’ Colin said.

And Bradley watched in astonishment as Colin proceeded to have his hand massaged, apparently easing some kind of sprain. ‘Uh, been overdoing the magic, have we?’ Bradley eventually asked.

‘Yeah,’ Colin replied with a grin that was admittedly a bit sheepish, but mostly just amused.

 _‘I almost twisted my ankle today,’_ Bradley informed them pointedly.

Colin murmured sympathetically, but nothing came of it, of course. He sat there having his hand rubbed until all was well again, and then the medical guy headed off elsewhere, leaving Bradley to fend for himself. Bradley harrumphed a bit, but there was no getting around the fact that Colin Morgan was everyone’s first, last and only priority.

♦

And Bradley wasn’t that different from everyone else really, cos he couldn’t stop thinking about the man. It was so totally irritating to be pondering Colin all the time, or hanging with him, when the two of them didn’t even really _like_ each other… What on earth was that about? Some kind of masochistic tendency on his own part, no doubt, when Colin’s every attribute put Bradley’s equivalents in the shade. But he just couldn’t leave well enough alone. ‘I wish I knew how to quit you, Morgan,’ he grumbled to himself.

The ramifications of which belatedly gave him pause.

Bradley began surreptitiously watching Colin even closer than he had been, but Colin was one of those ambiguous people who could be anything or everything or nothing – though Bradley suspected that the answer wouldn’t be nothing. Colin might be capable of being as chaste as a monk, but Bradley felt pretty sure he wasn’t. Which left anything or everything. When Bradley couldn’t work it out through his powers of observation, he decided he’d just ask. After all, his gaydar had been on the blink for _years_. In fact, he didn’t think he even _believed_ in gaydars any more.

He waited until the two of them had a moment to themselves between takes and couldn’t be overheard cos everyone else was fussing over Richard for some reason. Colin himself was gazing in that direction, and seemed poised to head over there. So Bradley said, ‘Colin –’

‘Mmm?’

‘Are you gay?’

Colin put his head back, startled, and after a moment turned towards him. Considered Bradley intently yet warily. Eventually he said, ‘Why d’you ask?’

‘That’s a _yes_ ,’ Bradley concluded.

‘No, it isn’t,’ Colin responded with a rare display of irritability. ‘If I _was_ , then obviously I’m not _out_ , so why wouldn’t I want to know why you’re interested?’

‘ _That’s_ a yes.’

‘And if I _wasn’t_ ,’ Colin sailed on undeterred, ‘then I’d still be a tad concerned about whether you’re asking cos you’re a homophobe.’

‘You _are_ gay,’ Bradley asserted with some sense of satisfaction.

‘Jesus, Bradley,’ Colin complained. His arms were crossed now, and he frowned restlessly at the ground for a long long moment. Then glanced over towards the cluster around Richard –

‘Yeah, I know Richard is.’

‘Everyone knows Richard is,’ Colin muttered – before finally saying, ‘All right. Seeing as you asked. Seeing as we’ll be working together for a while. Yes.’

‘Yes?’

‘Yeah, I’m gay. All right? But I’m not _out_ , and I’ll thank you to respect that.’

‘I’m straight,’ Bradley announced.

Colin merely rolled his eyes, as if this was hardly news. ‘Just – just assume that no one else knows, and we’ll do fine. Yeah?’

‘Sure,’ Bradley agreed with a shrug. ‘Pity you feel you have to _lie_ about something like that, though, isn’t it?’

Colin was staring at him, arms still crossed and his posture rigid now, his eyes glittering coldly.

‘I mean, in this day and age, I’d have thought anyone could just be _out_. It’s OK now, isn’t it? You can even, like, get _married_ – kind of. I mean, if _you’re_ comfortable with it, then –’

‘ _No_ , Bradley. No. It is _not_ OK. And you should just shut the fuck up. Before you blurt out something completely unforgivable.’

‘Oh.’ He stared down at his boots – Arthur’s boots, which were currently shuffling around on the dirt, looking sheepish. ‘Well, uh – I was just trying to be supportive.’

‘Yuh,’ said Colin, as if he barely even gave him credit for good intentions.

Luckily that’s when Gareth came to the rescue by calling, ‘Places, please!’

And Colin transformed into Merlin, who was certainly a lot easier to deal with right now, partly cos he definitely wasn’t gay… _Or was he?_ Arthur blinked at just the wrong moment – gave this great long slow blink – and then stared blankly at his manservant.

‘Cut!’ cried James. ‘OK, let’s go again – right away. Bradley, are you with us?’

‘Yeah, uh – sorry.’

Colin was watching Bradley, his lips kind of twisted in consideration. They just stood there looking at each other, Bradley feeling at rather a loss. Richard waited patiently in the background for his cue.

‘Scene three, take seven.’

Finally Colin winked at Bradley, all amusement and reassurance and… an unexpected hint of fondness. Yeah, genuine fondness.

‘Rolling…’

Bradley suddenly grinned, and relaxed – then regathered himself as Arthur.

‘…and _action_.’

And they were totally fine, Bradley and Colin. They made a good team. Maybe one day soon they’d make a great one.

‘Cut! Thank you, everyone. That’s a wrap.’

♦

Bradley was heading back to the hotel late that evening when he spied Colin sitting alone in the café just down the road, head bent over his phone. He decided to take a chance, so he headed inside. When he was looming over Colin, Bradley saw that the man was scrolling through photos – Colin and his mates partying, it looked like. Bradley cleared his throat.

Colin looked up, startled, instinctively turning his phone over to hide the display. ‘Bradley.’

‘Look, um… About before –’

‘It’s all right. Sit down.’ Not that Colin really sounded as if it was all right – more like he just wanted to move on rather than revisit it.

‘If I, uh –’

‘D’you want a drink? I’ve just ordered tea.’

‘Yeah. Thanks.’ And they went through that mundane rigmarole, Bradley emphasising to the waitress that he wanted ordinary Earl Grey, thank you, cos he knew Colin would have ordered herbal. Then he took a breath, wondering what exactly to say to his co–star and how best to say it.

But Colin got in first. He scrolled back through a few photos, and proffered his phone to Bradley. ‘This guy? Siggy. Sigmund. Was my boyfriend. For about a year.’

‘You were going out?’ Bradley asked a bit dopily, struggling to take this on board. Was it weird that he hadn’t had any gay friends before? He suspected it might be.

‘Well. Yes. And staying in,’ Colin amended, ‘often as not.’

There was something – there were many things to notice here. And then Bradley belatedly caught up with what Colin had said, and he looked up with a grin – and in response a delightfully wicked smile kicked up one corner of Colin’s lovely mouth. ‘Hah. I figured you were the dissolute sort, Morgan, once you got going. May I?’ he asked, indicating the phone.

‘Sure.’

Bradley started looking through the images. Colin and his mates and his boyfriend; occasionally his brother Neil. It wasn’t clear how many if any of the mates were also gay, but every now and then the group included a few girls, whether friends or dates or girlfriends. Mostly the guys were just drinking and carrying on, much like Bradley and his mates did of a Friday or Saturday night. The boyfriend featured in most of the photos. The two of them seemed comfortable with their arms around each other’s waist or shoulders, occasionally camping it up for the camera. The partying photos were interspersed with quieter ones, though: the two of them sprawled heads together on a shaggy lawn, Colin obviously holding the phone above them at arm’s length; the boyfriend – Sigmund, for fuck’s sake – waving his fork around to make a point during a discussion over lunch; the boyfriend – Siggy! – reading down the far end of a sofa, lost to the world in his book, oblivious to the photograph being taken, though Colin’s feet were in his lap and the man’s free hand curved protectively around one of Colin’s ankles.

Colin peered over to see what Bradley was considering so carefully. ‘Yeah…’ A gusty sigh. ‘I like that one.’

Bradley thought he could see why: the image was full of comfort and peace, fondness and companionship. Maybe too much peace. ‘He’s a bit older than you, Morgan.’ To call the man’s hairline receding would be the understatement of the year.

Colin shrugged easily. ‘I like older men.’

‘Good. Cos I’m, like, two years, two months and… something days older than you.’

‘Nah…’ Colin said, though he humoured Bradley by pretending to be considering this. ‘Still too young for my tastes.’

‘Speaking of tastes – he’s a _ginger_.’

Colin giggled. Colin Morgan actually burbled out a Tony Head–style giggle. ‘Yeah.’

‘That explains a lot.’ They discreetly fell quiet when the teas arrived, and once they were alone again Colin had sobered. Bradley handed the phone back. ‘So. You were using the past tense. What happened?’

Another shrug, though not quite as easy now. ‘Things were getting serious. He was getting serious about… us – and I was always serious about – Well. You can guess the rest. I was offered _Merlin_ , and that was gonna take up eight months of the year, and… we had to make some decisions.’

Bradley shook his head, and said lightly, ‘You’re a heartbreaker, Colin Morgan.’

Colin winced. ‘He knew – Siggy always knew who I was.’

A painful moment stretched. Bradley was lousy at this bit, and could rarely manage more than platitudes, but he supposed he had to try. ‘Um… If he had it to do over? I bet he wouldn’t do anything different. A year with you would be better than nothing at all.’

‘D’you really think that?’

‘Yeah. Absolutely.’

Colin shrugged, unconvinced. But when they moved onto rather less controversial topics, he soon brightened up again. They got talking about drama school and the best pubs in London, what the odds were of having snow at Christmas and whether power ballads were a legitimate art form. They ordered more tea. Colin fretted about the impossibility of finding a decent new place to live in London when he was gonna be in Cardiff and France for the coming months, and Bradley mumbled reassuring nonsense. Bradley settled down in his chair, in it for the long haul – and they were late back to the hotel that night, and had to get up way too early the next morning – but that didn’t matter to themselves or to anyone else, cos it seemed that at last – at last! – Bradley James and Colin Morgan were getting along.

♦

### Katie

It was vastly amusing to watch Bradley falling deeply in like with Colin. It was high school, but the way it should have been. It was the stuff of half–serious, half–comic coming–of–age films. Bradley was the golden–haired jock doing everything that was expected of him, and Colin was the contrary loner always walking his own path – but then to everyone’s surprise, the jock realises how very cool the loner is, and befriends him, and they’re both better for it. Everyone starts looking at them afresh, and they’re both cool now, both popular. And, all right, the metaphor collapsed into nonsense every time she thought very much about it, but there was a truth somewhere in there that still held strong.

Which was all a bit of a pity, really, because there was something extraordinarily good–hearted about Bradley James – and obviously he was utterly fanciable, though there was far more to him than met the eye – and Katie found herself wanting to know more about what was going on behind the happily extroverted exterior, even though Bradley tended to get a bit edgy in her company, as if he felt inadequate. But for now, Bradley was too wrapped with Colin and their burgeoning friendship to have any attention to spare for anyone else.

That was all right. The show was progressing. Katie hadn’t been fired. Angel was a sweet friend, Colin was a tall dark cool pint of Guinness, Tony and Richard were utter darlings, and Bradley was… Bradley was kind one moment and oblivious the next, alternately courageous and fearful, outgoing and vulnerable all at once. Fascinating.

Katie bided her time.

♦

### Colin

France was _amazing_. The sky was a beautifully saturated shade of blue, the Chateau was weird and wonderful and even more awesome than the sky – and the very air was so delicious that it went to Colin’s head like champagne bubbles. For the first few days, he and Bradley and the girls went rambling every chance they got, giddily exploring, inflicting their atrocious French on the endlessly patient locals. But Richard was joining them for the second week of filming, and Colin wanted to share the whole French thing with him as well.

On the third afternoon, the two of them lazed in their director’s chairs waiting for the next scene to be set up over the other side of the courtyard, loose–limbed in the continental warmth, turning their faces to the westering sunbeams which had finally slid in under the awning. Richard looked amusingly cool in Gaius’s wig and his own wraparound dark glasses. Colin decided to make the most of the sunshine, of the quiet that cocooned them. He let his head fall back further, feeling the gentle heat sink down through his skin and into his blood. ‘Richard…’

‘Mmm…?’

‘Have dinner with me tonight?’

Richard glanced sideways, smiling. Surprised. By the time Colin had turned towards him, though, the man was already looking down at his book again. ‘Oh, you young people don’t need me slowing you down.’

‘Not all of us. Just me.’

Another glance, slightly longer this time, but Richard still wouldn’t let his gaze be snared. ‘You’re very kind. But that’s really not necessary.’

‘It’s something I _want_ to do.’ Colin sat up taller in his chair. ‘If you need a reason, then we can run lines for that scene we’ll be doing back in Cardiff. I got a look at the draft schedule the other day, and I can’t see how they’re going to fit in _any_ rehearsal time.’

‘That scene…?’

‘Episode six, where Gaius is leaving Camelot, and he’s saying farewell to Merlin – and I don’t want you to go, but you have to for my sake, to keep me safe. It’s gonna be massive. We owe that to Gaius and Merlin.’

Richard was looking at him directly now, and fondly. But also somewhat sceptically. ‘ _You’ll_ be all right – you’re very talented, and you’ve already put a lot of thought into the scene. That’s obvious. And I hardly need to look very far to discover Gaius’s motivation.’

Colin held his gaze, very steadily – and asked, very lightly, ‘Why won’t you have dinner with me?’

They watched each other for a while, gently. Pondering. At last Richard huffed a quiet laugh and said, ‘What I love most is that you ask that with – not innocence, but honesty. You are sophisticated, these are sophisticated times – and yet you are so far beyond that, that you almost become innocent again.’

‘Richard –’

‘A _profound_ kind of innocence. No, there’s no need to protest. I’m not alluding to your no doubt multifarious experience.’

‘Richard!’ Colin managed little better than a sketch of a grin. ‘Should it bother me that you think I’m a tart?’

‘Oh dear,’ Richard replied with good–humoured regret. ‘This isn’t going very well, is it?’

‘Dinner and running lines,’ said Colin. ‘Not anything that really needs intense negotiations. Or not yet,’ he added with a wink.

Richard smiled, and looked down at his book again, apparently pondering. He was silent for so long that Colin assumed he’d started reading again, or maybe that he’d drifted into a doze in the last of the afternoon’s sunshine. But eventually Richard made a counter–offer. ‘I’ve found a rather lovely café, in a square not a block from the hotel. I’m already developing the habit of coffee and a pastry there in the morning. Why don’t you join me tomorrow? Bring the script for episode six, if you like, but we don’t actually _need_ a reason, do we?’ And he smoothly answered his own question before Colin could say anything potentially inappropriate. ‘We don’t need a reason. It’s perfectly natural that we should be friends.’

‘Perfectly,’ Colin echoed. And they shared a smile. Though Colin knew it was already more complicated than that.

♦

### Bradley

He was in Cardiff. He was in Cardiff after the four day break they’d been given between France and Wales – a break that he’d spent back home in Devon. But now Bradley was in Cardiff, and he was waiting for something. He was loitering around the lobby of the hotel, restless, hands jammed into his hoodie pockets – and a couple of times he took off down the street, thinking he needed a walk, he’d stretch his legs in the park, maybe even jog round the outer loop of paths to burn off this unexpected energy – but then he’d find himself back at the hotel within ten minutes or so. Hanging around. Waiting. It was bizarre.

‘What’s up with you?’ Katie asked once she’d checked in. She’d come from Dublin, he knew that, and now she walked over to him wheeling her stereotypically enormous suitcase.

‘Nothing,’ he retorted. ‘Why? What d’you think’s wrong with me?’

‘My darlin’, you are a mystery to me.’

‘Oh.’ He was disappointed, to say the least, though he didn’t _really_ want Katie knowing more about him than he did about himself. ‘Move along, then,’ Bradley said gruffly. ‘Nothing here to see.’

She laughed – her tinkling superior laugh, not the warm fond one – and headed for the lifts. ‘Come and have a drink later,’ she called back, ‘if you’re still at a loss.’

‘Just cos you think I’m easy pickings…’ he muttered darkly. ‘I have my pride, you know!’

‘Of _course_ you do, my darlin’…’ But at least the laughter as she disappeared into the lift was no longer quite so cool.

More waiting. He went to get a bottle of water from the vending machines, had to go back to reception to get the necessary change, then for all of five seconds sat on the sofas no one ever used. God… this was _so_ stupid.

Half an hour later the people coming from London arrived, about ten or twelve of them all haphazardly heading for the reception desk.

And then – and then Colin Morgan was revealed amidst the throng, and Bradley’s heart pounded, and his breath snagged in his throat, and the water bottle almost slipped through his nerveless fingers – and then Colin saw him, and smiled with broad straightforward happiness, and Bradley had no need of air or blood cos his heart stopped as did his lungs – and that’s when he knew. That’s when he knew what had happened. He’d crossed a line somehow, without even knowing. He’d crossed the line that no straight man was ever meant to cross. He’d fallen in love with another man, with his friend, with his co–star.

♦

As soon as he’d checked in, Colin came over to him, wheeling a medium–sized suitcase which Bradley knew would be heavy due to an inordinate number of books. ‘All right, Bradley?’ he asked in an easy greeting. ‘What’s up?’

‘Nothing,’ he whispered – and his mouth was dry, so he took another swallow of the water, except he was clumsy enough to spill drops down his t–shirt in the process. ‘Oh fuck…’

Colin chuckled. ‘It’s only water, don’t fret.’ He tilted his head towards the lifts. ‘I’m heading up. Catch you later?’

‘No – I mean, no, uh – Can I come up, too?’

This was met by a puzzling smiling frown. ‘Since when did you ask?’

‘Oh. Sorry.’ Colin was absolutely right: Bradley usually just trailed around after whoever he felt like hanging around with, unless it was made patently clear to him that he wasn’t welcome. ‘Must be a right pain.’

‘Nah, course not. Don’t be silly. Just come on up.’

And that was what he wanted, of course – though strangely he also felt a strong urge to refuse, partly cos he was scared, yes, but also partly cos he… almost _wanted_ to feel the exquisite pain of not being with Colin. And the confusion that caused saw him through the temptation of being confined in the lift with the other man – the lift that was unusually large and well–lit, but inevitably created thoughts of Colin taking advantage, crowding him, pressing close… and… and –

And Bradley was following Colin into his hotel room before he’d had a chance to realise what a very _very_ bad idea this could turn out to be. But Colin was just utterly relaxed, and didn’t seem to realise anything was going on, he just started unpacking his bag, and nattering on, asking how Devon was but apparently not expecting much of an answer beyond Bradley’s, ‘Oh. Fine, yeah. It was good. Um… How’s the house–hunting going?’ Bradley asked as a diversionary tactic. He propped his rear on the desk as Colin began replying in disheartened detail, and he just watched Colin pottering about, trying not to think very hard about the fact that his heart seemed to have already given itself to Colin, and maybe the rest of his body might fancy offering itself, too – which was just _weird_ , really, this was a _man_ – and all right Colin was slim like Katie, and had her lovely Irish colouring, and was just as beautiful though in a… in an elfish kind of way, but he was still way taller, taller even than Bradley by a smidgen, and certainly not curvy in the right places or even at all, and when those jeans came off there would be a _Crying Game_ revelation which would hardly be _news_ , would it, but Bradley was almost totally adamant that he really didn’t want to be going there, he really didn’t. He was almost totally _certain_ about that. Almost. But then that’s what Colin did, wasn’t it, he had sex with other men – two people having sex together, both with… revelations. And Bradley really didn’t want to think about that, when the point right now was that he was in love, he had fallen in love with Colin, he had slid all the way from friendship to love – and Bradley’s heart was beating out the rhythm of every romantic song ever sung while the melody was Colin’s lilt, rising to a laugh and then falling to a murmur before swooping up again – and Colin’s _smile_ and his _eyes_ and even his _ears_ were just so very – so very _enticing_ – and –

‘Bradley? So, what d’you think?’

‘Oh! Um…’ Obviously he was thinking nothing at all, or at least nothing that could be shared, so Bradley grabbed the nearest thing to him, which happened to be a book – opened it up and gazed down at it as if he’d been captured by the words all along. ‘What do I think about what?’

Colin looked at him a bit sardonically, and walked closer to him, indicating the book with a laconic hand. ‘Well, what d’you think about Keats’ letters?’

‘Brilliant, obviously. Enthralling.’ But he couldn’t maintain the pretence, so he grinned, and said, ‘Sorry, who?’

‘John Keats, the poet. _A thing of beauty is a joy forever: its loveliness increases; it will never pass into nothingness._ ’

‘Yeah.’ The words echoed vaguely, as if Bradley had heard them at school or in a movie or something. ‘So, what are you reading his letters for?’

‘They’re as brilliant as the poems. Some say they’re _more_ brilliant.’ Colin’s long pale fingers traced tips across the pages resting in Bradley’s hands, as if feeling the texture of the paper. Bradley’s breath snagged in his throat again. ‘I brought this for Richard, actually, but if you want to read it –’

‘Are you _serious_?’ Bradley gaped at the man. Was that a sign that he wasn’t so in love after all, that he couldn’t or wouldn’t pretend to be interested in a poet’s letters? But then he’d never really understood the way people seemed to hold their true selves back from love, as if they could fool the other person into falling in love with some kind of ideal. Surely that rarely worked in the short term, and was disastrous in the long term. There was no point in trying to pull the wool over Colin’s eyes. ‘No. No, you and Richard knock yourselves out with this. I was just thinking… you and me…’

‘Yes?’ asked Colin. He was still close to Bradley, his fingers resting lightly on the book Bradley held. He was close and hushed.

‘We could see a movie, maybe? If there’s something on –’

‘Sure.’ Colin broke into a grin. ‘Sure. We could do that.’

So very close, and Bradley was watching the man’s mouth, and those _lips_ – lips prettier than Katie’s, for heaven’s sake. And a kiss was a kiss was a kiss, wasn’t it? He wondered if Colin would indulge him. If Bradley just leaned forward now, surely his intent would be plain, and Colin might oblige him by leaning in and taking charge and –

 _Oh my god_ , he was thinking about being snogged by another man, for god’s sake.

‘I, uh – I’d better go.’ He slid away to the side out of Colin’s reach, putting the book down somewhere behind him on the desk, heading for the door. ‘I’ll see what’s on! Then you can choose.’

‘Bradley –’

‘Catch you later, Colin.’

‘Wait – Bradley?’

‘Bye!’ And he was out of there and in the corridor. He paused to drag in a breath, and then another one – and then he headed for his own room at speed, abruptly terrified for no good reason that Colin would come after him… Or was Bradley more afraid that actually he _wished_ that Colin would?

♦

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### Richard

A quiet knock at his hotel room door, and it was no surprise to Richard that he found Colin waiting there with a gently hopeful smile lighting up his face and a book in his hands. ‘Colin,’ he murmured, unable despite his better self to sound discouraging.

‘I brought this book with me from home, there’s something I’d like to read to you from it.’

‘I see.’ It was a volume of Keats’ letters. Richard could even guess which passage Colin had in mind.

‘Can I come in?’ And Colin didn’t quite take a step, but shifted forward just far enough that Richard instinctively stepped back, and then Colin was walking in, with an oddly deferential brand of determination, and Richard was closing the door on this fait accompli. ‘Thank you,’ Colin said as he sat down in one of the chairs.

Richard huffed a wry laugh, and sat opposite him. ‘You’re welcome.’

Colin had the relevant page bookmarked, and opened the book in his lap, just below the table – but he looked at Richard very directly. ‘If this is any use at all, you must have already thought about it, and it’ll be nothing new to you. But it reminds me of your approach to acting.’

‘Read it to me, then.’ And it was indeed the paragraph that Richard had anticipated.

‘ _I had not a dispute but a disquisition with Dilke, on various subjects; several things dovetailed in my mind, and at once it struck me what quality went to form a Man of Achievement especially in Literature, and which Shakespeare possessed so enormously – I mean **Negative Capability** , that is when man is capable of being in uncertainties, mysteries, doubts, without any irritable reaching after fact and reason. Coleridge, for instance, would let go by a fine isolated verisimilitude caught from the penetralium of mystery, from being incapable of remaining content with half knowledge._’ Colin looked across at him. ‘Isn’t that the sort of thing you mean when you talk about doing less rather than more? About being open, and allowing people in?’

‘Yes, of course you’re right. As you well know.’ Richard nodded in acceptance, though he didn’t like to think exactly what he was agreeing to; then he dared to indulge himself. ‘Read me the whole letter. You have such a beautiful voice.’

Colin smiled, uncomplicatedly pleased by the compliment. ‘ _My dear brothers, I must crave your pardon for not having written ere this_ …’ And too soon he was finishing: ‘ _Write soon to your most sincere friend and affectionate brother, John._ ’

Richard mused for a while. ‘John Keats was an amazing young man. He wrote his great odes when he wasn’t many months older than you are now. Where do you find the capacity for genius at such an age?’

‘I’m not so young,’ Colin protested.

‘Forgive an old creature, but to me you are a man but newly made.’

‘I’ve been acting – and thinking about it, and pursuing it – for years. I have over a decade of experience of one sort or another. I suppose it was much the same for Keats and poetry.’

‘Perhaps. Although he pursued medical training as well.’

‘But he saw both medicine and poetry as being about healing,’ Colin argued, proving that Richard had underestimated him once more despite Richard’s partiality. ‘To him, it wasn’t as if he chose a completely different path.’

‘ _Mine eyes dazzle_ ,’ Richard murmured.

‘Webster!’ Colin blurted in recognition. But then he chuckled a bit filthily, and lifted a hand to ask for silence while he searched his memory. ‘I have it!’ he soon declared with a grin. And, looking directly at Richard with that endless blue gaze, he asked, ‘ _Is not old wine wholesomest, old pippins toothsomest, old wood burn brightest, old linen wash whitest? Old soldiers, sweethearts, are surest, and old lovers are soundest._ ’

‘You’re being rather droll at my expense,’ Richard complained.

‘Not at all. I’m being honest at my own. You seem to think you need to apologise for your age, when I needs must apologise for my youth.’

‘Oh, now don’t do that. That isn’t fair. Trying to seduce me with your literary cadences…’

Colin was grinning at him. ‘Well, at least you admit now that I _am_ trying to seduce you. You pretended not to believe me before.’

‘I might believe you, but I still don’t take you seriously. Not at all.’

To Richard’s alarm, Colin stood, and stepped deliberately towards him. Took Richard’s hand in his, and lifted it, bent close to press a kiss to the back of it. ‘Then I will be patient until you do.’

And Richard watched him walk to the door. At the last possible moment, Richard found himself saying, ‘You might read me more of Keats… on another night.’

‘I’d love to.’ Said with simple grace, and not an ounce of triumph.

‘They are such excellent letters, you see.’

‘They are,’ Colin solemnly agreed. But then his eyes twinkled fond laughter at Richard as he let himself out. And then he was gone, and the hotel room weighed empty and quiet, dark and cold around a man who felt old and lonely and invigorated and conflicted all at once.

♦

### Katie

She knew that Bradley often went jogging around the perimeter of the park near the hotel, so sometimes she went to find him there, running until she caught up with him, and then loping along at his side, matching his pace perfectly. He would nod in acknowledgement, but they rarely talked – instead they each listened to their own music, and sometimes one would head back to the hotel sooner than the other. But Katie enjoyed feeling her own body working rhythmically, the muscle and blood, the skin and sweat, and she thought that was something they shared, the two of them, this delight in the sheer physicality of being human.

This morning, however, Katie ran into the park only to find Bradley seated on a bench apparently contemplating a small pile of sticks at his feet. He wasn’t even listening to his music; his earbuds were dangling round his neck. He seemed lost in thought. Or maybe he was waiting. Not for Katie, she surmised, but perhaps he was hoping for –

A child had appeared from the bushes just behind Bradley, a little girl with red hair, a pink dress and dark green tights, and Katie didn’t think much of it until the girl toddled around to stand before Bradley and carefully place a small bit of branch on the pile. ‘Thank you,’ said Bradley, matching the child’s solemnity exactly. ‘That’s a particularly good one, I have to say. Well done.’ The girl looked at him and laughed happily, though she seemed too young to understand anything more than his approval. Then she toddled back towards the bushes as fast as she could go.

Katie wandered over, and sat down on the other side of Bradley. ‘You’ve found another admirer, I see.’

‘I’ve found an admirer of twigs.’

‘Who does she belong to?’

‘I really have no idea. I just stopped here for a moment to fix a shoelace, and she… adopted me. Perhaps she can recognise another twig–lover when she sees one.’

Katie looked around, but there was no one who seemed at all aware of the child, no one who seemed to be missing her. The girl came back around the far end of the bench, but paused when she saw Katie. ‘Hello, sweetheart,’ Katie murmured in what she hoped was a bright and kindly tone. She received a shy smile for her efforts.

The girl, however, looked to Bradley for his opinion. Bradley nodded. ‘Katie’s all right. She’s a friend of mine, and she thinks twigs are _marvellous_.’

‘I do, it’s true.’ Apparently the girl felt reassured, because she placed her latest find on the pile, and went back for more. Judging by the size of the pile, this had been going on for a while. ‘Bradley,’ said Katie. ‘What are you planning to do with this child?’

He kind of shrugged uneasily. ‘I figured someone would come looking for her soon enough. No point making a fuss and maybe scaring her in the meantime.’

‘And if no one comes?’

‘I guess at some point we call the police.’ Bradley showed her his mobile, apparently to prove he was ready for all contingencies.

‘ _We_?’ she queried. But of course she would stay by him now.

‘There’s a playground over there, remember?’ He pointed. ‘Over that rise and beyond the trees. I thought about walking her there, but if that’s not where she came from, it might cause more drama than it’s worth.’

The girl came back again with another offering. She seemed a bit wobbly on her feet now, as if she were tiring, even though the smile she gave Bradley was pure sunshine. Katie started, ‘I think maybe –’

 _‘Carrie!’_ A woman was approaching as fast as she could, from the general direction of the playground. _‘Carrie…’_

The girl had spun around towards the voice, and while she didn’t seem able to focus on the woman clearly, she lifted her arms as if wanting and expecting a hug. She may also have said, ‘Mama,’ it was hard to be sure – but it was clear this wasn’t a stranger.

Then the woman was there, scooping up the girl and holding her pressed close. ‘Oh Carrie, Carrie… how did you get all the way up here…?’

‘She must have walked,’ Bradley offered, ‘though I know it’s –’

 _‘What the hell were you doing with my daughter?’_

Bradley went blank for a moment, and then eased into a kind of quiet neutrality. He didn’t reply. Katie began a bit defensively, ‘He was keeping an eye on her for you –’ but Bradley touched his knuckles gently to her arm, and she shut up.

The woman launched into an angry tirade about how he’d been stupid at best and criminal at worst, and anyone else would have thought to take her back to the playground, help her find her mother, and so on, and so forth – then she turned to Katie and cried, ‘And _you_ should have known better!’

‘Hey!’ she protested. ‘This man is the _kindest_ , most –’ but Bradley’s knuckles bumped her again, then slid down until his hand was wrapping around hers.

The woman managed a few more choice phrases before little Carrie finally burst into tears, and her mother turned her back and stalked away, trying to calm her.

‘Well,’ said Katie once the quiet returned.

‘Well,’ Bradley agreed. He wasn’t touching her any more; he’d shoved his hands into his hoodie pockets, but he otherwise seemed surprisingly relaxed.

‘Why didn’t you say anything? She was so out of line!’

He shrugged. ‘Wasn’t any point getting into an argument about who should have done what, was there? She was feeling bad. Let her get it off her chest.’

After a moment he looked at Katie, and she could see that he was a little shaken despite everything. She leaned in close to emphasise her words: ‘You’re a good man, Bradley James.’

Another shrug, and then a smile that at least echoed his usual brash grin. ‘Good enough, I suppose.’

‘Come on. Let me buy you a coffee.’

‘All right.’ And they walked back towards the hotel, shoulder to shoulder – metaphorically at least.

♦

### Colin

Now that the ice had been broken, Richard would let Colin come to his room in the evening, once or twice for each week that Richard was filming with them. The reasons why Colin wanted to be there didn’t get mentioned, nor did Richard explain why he wouldn’t let this go any further, or why he politely but firmly refused to visit Colin’s room. Instead they talked about what they’d been reading, what they’d been watching, what they’d been listening to or thinking about. And acting – they talked endlessly about acting, and about Merlin and Gaius, and about all the other roles they’d played or wanted to. They’d order dinner from room service, and they’d sit either side of the little table, and they’d talk. And then they’d read Shakespeare together – picking a play at random, and then alternating the dialogue so each of them ended up speaking as almost every character – and they’d come up with random challenges such as each of them delivering a line five times in five different ways, and they’d end up laughing and delighted and impressed and…

…and loved. They each knew they were loved, in the same ways and in different ways. It was precious to them, and they shared the happiness as if wallowing in it, but they never spoke of it and they never did anything about it. Colin knew that, for now at least, Richard wouldn’t have it any other way.

In fact, when Richard finally raised the topic of love late one night, it wasn’t at all of his own love for Colin he spoke. ‘Colin… my dear young friend… my very dear friend… You do realise that Bradley is in love with you, don’t you?’

Colin looked away for a moment from Richard’s candid gaze, considering. Remembering. Only that day Bradley had spent all his free time stalking Colin with his video camera, thinking he was being discreet and stealthy, and actually only making it clearer and clearer to all around them that – ‘I think he might have a wee bit of a crush,’ Colin conceded.

He hadn’t minded the attention during the morning, he’d put up with it while eating his lunch – but eventually, a couple of hours into the afternoon and needing to get his head around an impossible bit of Old English, Colin’s composure had cracked. ‘What are you _doing_ , James?’

‘Trying to get the quintessential footage of your cheekbones. _Merlin_ fans everywhere demand it.’

‘Is that so?’

‘It is,’ Bradley solemnly replied, still filming. ‘There was a petition and everything.’

‘Bradley, there _are_ no _Merlin_ fans. The show hasn’t even been broadcast yet.’

‘Ah.’ This only gave the man pause for a moment. ‘You’ve found me out. I’m actually from your future, sent back _by_ the fans to –’

‘Bradley,’ said Colin severely, though he was laughing, he couldn’t help himself. ‘Just shut it, would you.’

‘ _I came across time for you_ , Colin.’

Which cracked him up even more, though he knew Bradley half meant the raw passion of it. ‘Fine. Then if we’ve already filmed the show, and you’ve watched it and everything, you can tell me how the hell I ended up pronouncing _this_.’ He shoved the script across the table, and tapped his finger against the offending lines.

Bradley took one long bewildered look at the spell. ‘Uh… I should warn you that future me isn’t any smarter than present me.’

‘Great.’

‘I’m just as endearing, though!’ Bradley claimed brightly, with the most enticingly hopeful smile, those blue eyes wide open, and all of the man his for the asking – _all his_  –

And in that moment Colin had truly wondered at his own reluctance…

‘It’s more than a crush,’ Richard said now. ‘You know it is.’

‘He’s straight, Richard.’

‘Obviously there’s reasonable doubt on that point.’

Colin shook his head. ‘I think, fundamentally, he’s straight. Sure and we could have a fling while he’s feeling this way, but eventually he’d walk away. This is… an aberration.’

‘So you’ve thought about it, then,’ Richard observed.

‘In idle moments,’ Colin admitted. ‘But I’m here with you.’

Richard shook his head. ‘You’d be happier elsewhere. You’d be happy with Bradley. He is the most… engaging young man I’ve met with in many a year. And considerate. Far too considerate a man to treat you poorly.’

‘But eventually he’d have to walk away, and it would be… difficult. For both of us. And we have to work together… so closely. Maybe for years. It wouldn’t be worth it.’

‘The two of you get along so well. In some ways you’re alike, and in other ways you’re complementary. You share a sense of humour, which may well see you through anything… Not that I speak from experience myself. None of my own relationships ever lasted very long, shared humour or not.’

‘Richard, why are you so determined –’

‘I suspect it’s more serious for Bradley than a crush. And you deserve… love with –’

‘I _have_ love.’

‘– with a man of your own generation.’

‘Richard…’ he complained.

‘Hhhmmm…?’ with an implacably raised eyebrow.

The words died on his lips. They didn’t talk about it further, and it wasn’t long before Colin bade Richard goodnight.

♦

### Bradley

Even on random, his iPod was beginning to throw songs at him of the helplessly yearning ilk – so very many that he wondered where they all came from, and did they just float through the aether until they sensed an echoing need, a familiar ache, and they were drawn to it, they wrote themselves onto your memory card, crowding out all the happily fulfilled songs, overwriting anything that wasn’t about love…

The wistfulness felt more sweet than bitter, though, and Bradley hardly even knew any more whether the yearning was greater when he was with Colin and _not kissing him_ , or when he was apart from Colin and unable to see him or hear him or even occasionally just casually touch him – or was the yearning greatest of all when Bradley simply reflected that probably nothing was ever gonna happen. The sweet wistfulness was like… lemon cake with lemon icing, all the lovelier for the glorious tang.

He wasn’t even sure what it was, really. Maybe this was just a boyish crush, like he’d had once or twice in school before he’d discovered the delights of girls, and of course such crushes never came to anything, they weren’t _meant_ to come to anything, but simply were what they were. Rehearsals, of a sort. He could hardly keep himself from wanting Colin to kiss him, though, in not a rehearsal but an actual performance – Bradley was completely fixated on those sinfully pretty lips, on all Colin’s smiles and pouts and especially on those rare moments in which Colin would be so focussed on something else that his mouth would part in an **_o_** and if Bradley listened carefully he could just hear the slight pant of Colin’s enraptured breath…

‘Pining for someone, are you?’ one of his mates asked, back in London when they were all out late on a Saturday night, searching for the perfect pint, the perfect pull.

‘What? No. Why? What have you heard?’

Which of course caused much merriment. ‘Nothing, mate. What have you got to hide?’

‘Nothing.’ He thought for a moment, wondering how much he could tell them. Bradley’s first instinct was always to be honest, if he could, especially with his friends. And as sometimes happened in the ebb and flow of an evening, they were all gathered around a table in a relaxed kind of pub, having a relatively quiet drink, girding themselves for the next adventure. Now was as good a time as any to fill them in as best as he was able. ‘It’s a good bunch of people on this show,’ he started. ‘I’ve made some friends.’

‘Is Anthony Head as cool as you thought he’d be?’

‘He laughs at all my jokes, no matter how lame. He couldn’t be cooler if he tried.’

‘What about the guy who’s playing Merlin? D’you understand him any better now?’

 _No, he’s the most intriguing mystery I’ve ever stumbled into._ ‘Um…’

‘I guess not, huh?’

‘No, he’s great. Uh – Bit of an intellectual, though. Scarily smart. Not like any of you lot. But we have fun. Mucking around. Pulling pranks, you know?’

‘And is that all you wanna pull?’

Mortifying. He didn’t have a clue how he’d given himself away, but they’d already sussed him out. And Bradley went bright red, which was more mortifying still.

‘Ah, mate… you have it bad!’

‘What are we talking about?’ someone else asked.

‘Bradley’s in _looove_ …’

‘Who with? Come on, give us a name.’

‘C–’ he managed. ‘C–’

‘Katie McGrath,’ someone moaned, making her name into something utterly filthy. ‘Aw man, did you see her in _The Tudors_ the other night? I never envied Bradley until that moment.’

‘Oh god,’ he muttered, his momentary courage rapidly dwindling away to nothing. ‘Oh god.’

‘I would so totally tap that…’

‘Like a maple tree.’

‘Like a keg o’ beer.’

‘She’s Irish, ain’t she? Like a keg of Guinness!’ And the conversation degenerated from there, despite Bradley’s ineffectual efforts to deflect the ribaldry. Katie did not deserve this.

♦

Unexpectedly, Bradley found that he liked her. He didn’t just get along with Katie – he _liked_ her.

Under the circumstances, Katie was strangely relaxing to hang around. Katie McGrath, of all people, brought him peace. Angel was still beyond great, too – Angel was a sweetheart, and somehow she managed to be way more grown–up than Bradley yet also tolerant of his moods and his foolishness. And yet it was now Katie who Bradley felt drawn towards. Which was strange cos she could be more scarily intellectual than Colin, and if she wasn’t in a good mood she would just _bristle_ in ways that could scratch a man’s very soul. But most of the time she was both bracing and kind, both tolerant and challenging. And because of a whole raft of superficial things along with a few really deep things, hanging around with Katie was a lot like hanging around with Colin – except he could relax, because the yearning wasn’t there. The yearning went quiet, like Katie quelled it. Which was strange.

Cos when he was with Colin, it was all Bradley could do not to invite a kiss from him. Yet he never once felt the urge to kiss Katie. She was a friend, and he loved that about her. She was a good friend, and he _liked_ her.

♦

### Richard

Richard felt the cold all too easily these days, but even he couldn’t handle the heat of a June day in France, especially not in Gaius’s robes. Half of it was his own fault, too, because in the marrow–biting damp of February in Cardiff, he’d insisted on his costume involving more layers – so now of course for the sake of continuity he was spending the summer wearing a sturdy cocoon.

Back in his hotel room on the second evening, he’d hardly had the chance to take a breath let alone cool down or relax when he heard a knock on the door. As Richard hadn’t yet called room service, he could guess who it was. ‘Hello,’ said Colin with a soft smile when Richard opened the door. And the young man walked in as if completely sure of his welcome, settled at the table, placed there with both hands whatever book he’d brought this time – it would be poetry or a play. And to add insult to injury he was dressed in nothing more than a t–shirt, long shorts and flip–flops. Richard would have loved to strip down likewise in the lingering warmth of a long summer evening, but he could hardly do that in company. Not any more. If an old man had nothing else, he must at least try to maintain his dignity.

Richard let the door close, but didn’t shift from where he stood. ‘Colin, we can’t keep doing this.’

The soft smile never faltered though Colin looked at him very directly. ‘Yes, we can,’ he rejoined in easy tones.

‘You know nothing can come of this. You must stop visiting me in the evenings.’

‘Where’s the harm in spending time with a friend, if nothing will come of it?’

‘ _Don’t_ be disingenuous; it doesn’t suit you.’

Colin had the grace to look chagrined; he glanced away for a moment. But then he was looking at Richard again. ‘I enjoy being with you; _that_ suits me. Whether you let something come of it or not; that’s a different issue.’

‘The impossible fancies of an old man,’ Richard muttered, turning away from that level open gaze. ‘This is nothing more. And you’re _humouring_ me. It seems I have no pride. Anyone with any pride at all would surely feel insulted.’

Colin was silent for long enough that eventually Richard had to look at him again, to judge his reaction. The young man was thoughtful, but a twist to his mouth perhaps indicated that he felt hurt. When he spoke it was, however, in neutral tones. ‘Are you saying a man would have to be in his dotage to love me?’

‘You know I’m not saying that at all.’

‘Anyway, it’s the fancy of a young man, too, isn’t it? This is what I want, Richard.’

‘How can you be so sure? We’ve hardly even _talked_ about it! And you know what they say about the proof of the pudding…’

‘It’s in the eating,’ Colin smoothly supplied, still looking at Richard so very directly, and not needing to do anything at all to convey the innuendo.

He was reduced to pleading. ‘Oh please, _please_ will you go away and leave me in peace?’

A moment’s self–doubt then – but even as Colin glanced away his jaw set mulishly, and he said, ‘No.’

‘ _Colin_ ,’ he cried brokenly, turning away.

‘Richard –’

‘No –’

‘What is it? What’s wrong?’ Colin had stood up, but he didn’t approach closer – Richard could tell as much from the whisper of fabric against fabric, which then stilled. ‘Why are you saying these things tonight, and not any other night?’

‘I just – it’s hot – and I want – I want to feel cool again, I  _don’t_ want to be attired for guests – I want –’

‘God, d’you think _I_ care about you stripping down to your shorts?’

‘Well, you _should_. In any case, _I_ care. And if you really are my friend, you might do me the courtesy of not outstaying your welcome.’

Colin’s breath left him in an audible gasp. Then silence for a moment, before he said in a strained voice, ‘If I leave now, I’m not leaving for good, Richard. You know that, right? I’m not giving up. I’ll always be your friend, Richard, but I’m not giving up on wanting more.’

He managed a shaky nod. ‘Yes. I know that.’

‘All right.’ And the young man approached, feet whispering across the carpet. A hand lifted, hovered – then ran knuckles gently down Richard’s arm. ‘Goodnight, Richard. I hope you sleep well.’

‘Goodnight,’ he muttered low.

And then Colin was heading for the door, letting himself out – and Richard didn’t dare turn to watch the young man, because even without the visual enticement the greater part of Richard Wilson was crying out, _For the love of god, you old fool, don’t let him go!_

♦

### Katie

‘Will you _please_ get that fucking thing out of my face, Bradley?’

‘Ah, I hear that a lot, _Merlin_ fans. You – hopefully – are hearing it for the very first time, but I personally have lost count of the number of times I’ve heard that.’

‘Bugger off, will you? I am _so_ not in the mood.’

‘Yes, alas – another entry on Bradley James’ Top Ten Hit Parade. Ladies are frequently – and may I say inexplicably – not in the mood when I’m around. It’s a cause of constant heartache and confusion for me, as I’m sure you can imagine.’

 _‘Fuck off!’_

‘Now, Katie,’ he admonished, ‘you know we’re not allowed to swear on these things.’

‘Right, so the innuendo and the confession about your lack of a love life is permissible, is it?’

‘Good point. All right, I think we can assume I’ll have to delete all this before handing over the memory card. So… Katie McGrath… what have you always wanted to confess? This is your chance. What do you want to record for posterity?’

She favoured him with her best suspicious scowl. ‘I thought you said you were deleting it.’

‘What do you want to record for… The Record for… several minutes. At most. Before it is erased from existence. Come on. What do you want to get off that rather lovely chest of yours…?’

‘Oh you so deserve a good slap, Bradley James.’

He laughed, one of his delighted hooting laughs that always got through to her no matter what. Which was really unfair. ‘That’s three out of my own personal Top Ten remarks received, _Merlin_ fans. You’re doing well, Katie. Want to go for a perfect ten?’

‘If I wanted a perfect ten, it would have nothing to do with you.’

‘Not bad as retorts go, but not really up to your usual levels of wit, McGrath. D’you want to have another try?’

‘Oh just fuck off, Bradley…’ she said tiredly.

‘So, if I’m not a perfect ten,’ he continued as if completely oblivious, ‘where exactly _do_ I rate on the Bo Derek scale?’

‘Right now? Minus something.’

‘And normally?’ He’d lowered the camera to rest on his thigh, and the red light that indicated he was recording went out. ‘How would I rate on any other day?’ Bradley asked quietly, as if he actually really wanted to know.

He was completely disarming, that was the problem. Katie’s irritation melted away under that candid gaze, those open blue–summer–sky eyes, without any volition on her part. ‘Well,’ she said with some reluctance, ‘fairly high, I suppose.’

And he didn’t crow or laugh or pounce or do anything really, except sit there and gaze some more. And eventually he said, ‘I  _like_ you, Katie.’

‘Good.’ Briskly, even a little tartly, which wasn’t really what she intended but she felt too on–edge for anything else. ‘I like you, too.’

‘Good.’ But he still didn’t do anything, and he didn’t say anything further. Maybe he didn’t mean what she thought he might. And anyway, there was the whole Colin Situation to take into account.

Katie sighed, and broke their mutual gaze. And after a moment, Bradley stood, and headed off, video camera in hand. ‘Catch you later!’ And nothing had changed.

♦

### Colin

Colin had always been the kind of guy who knew who he was and what he wanted. That applied to being an actor, to being gay, to being an atheist. He’d also been part of a family that embodied unconditional love so thoroughly that it had been years before he realised that this was a thing with a name, it wasn’t just The Way Things Are. Not that it had always been easy. His parents – especially his Dad – hated that he didn’t believe in their God. They loved him, though. Colin had never doubted that for a moment. They’d taken the acting and the queerness in their stride, and only stumbled at the last. But they had always loved him regardless.

He knew who he was and what he wanted. But Colin wasn’t so stubborn that he wouldn’t listen to anyone else’s advice. And Richard, whose opinion quite naturally carried a great deal of weight with Colin, thought Colin should be encouraging Bradley. Who wasn’t Colin’s type at all, but there was no denying he was gorgeous, and fun to be with, and despite their differences the two of them seemed to be actually becoming good friends. And, for now at least, Bradley was in love with Colin. There was something to be said for trying something different… Bradley himself seemed keen to do just that, though Colin really couldn’t believe that the impulse would prove at all long–lived. And the problem was, of course, that Colin loved Richard – but then Richard seemed quite determined to be having none of that, and quite sincere about Colin pursuing the possibilities of Bradley… Colin pondered the situation.

And of course, Bradley was paying close attention to Colin and almost immediately noticed that Colin was now paying slightly closer attention to Bradley than he had been. Even if Colin was looking merely puzzled, or soberly thoughtful, Bradley would flush endearingly and shift uncertainly as if not sure whether to turn away from Colin’s regard or turn into it.

They were on the Eurostar heading home when matters progressed. Or, more precisely, when Colin and all his precious self–knowledge and self–control was completely spun about. It probably didn’t help that Richard had already gone home; of the main cast, he always had the least to film in France. It certainly didn’t help that Bradley was sitting there facing Colin, three rows away on the other side of the aisle. Colin fooled himself that Bradley wouldn’t notice Colin watching him, but of course he was aware of it, of course he knew that Colin wasn’t dozing just cos he had his head back against the seat and his eyes were half–lidded. In no way did it help that Bradley was at his most beautiful, his most vulnerable, and his smiles in response to Katie’s quiet chatter were bittersweet…

Colin could see the attraction of Bradley James. He could. But in his experience, gay was gay, straight was straight, friendship was friendship, and love was love. No one in Colin’s circle had ever crossed and confused those boundaries as Bradley apparently had. Surely this was all a temporary aberration, and everyone would return to what passed as normal soon enough.

They were getting close to London when Colin gave up trying to solve the puzzle visually, and instead went to stretch his legs. He’d felt so very restless lately – and he valued peace too much to be entirely happy when things were thus. Colin headed for the luggage area, fiddled with his case for a moment or two, excusing his restlessness with the notion that his belongings needed some kind of reorganising. Which of course they didn’t, so eventually he headed for the main door of the carriage, rested his forehead against the thick metal skin of the train, stared through the reinforced window at the ground rushing past in a dizzying blur.

 _‘Colin –’_

Barely even a whisper behind him, but he knew it wasn’t his imagination, he knew it was real, and he knew who it was, he knew what would happen – and it was and it did. He turned. Maybe he’d underestimated the impact that Bradley would have on him – that vulnerable face just completely open to him, so full of yearning and bared need and wistful love – the man’s beautiful heart right there in his eyes –

 _‘Col –’_

‘Bradley,’ he answered, voice snagging in his throat. And Bradley needed – his friend needed, yearned for, invited this kiss – Colin reached for the man, tugged him into an embrace, it wasn’t graceful but it was _true_ , it was _them_ – and Bradley stumbled into him, Bradley’s hands were trembling at his waist – and Colin pushed in close and pressed his mouth against Bradley’s – and –

And it was clumsy and they were both nervous, and it was light and sweet and hungry and heavy all at once – and it was the most astonishing kiss, it was _astonishing_.

‘Bradley,’ he said again, roughly, when they pulled apart. Colin felt dazed.

But now Bradley was watching Colin, and there was some kind of distance involved in that, Bradley had taken a step back in more ways than one – now he was the one contemplating, wondering. And after a long long moment he nodded, just once. And then he walked away.

♦

Bradley walked away.

Colin gusted out a breath, as if winded. Dazed and astonished and reeling. It had been the most amazing kiss, and now it was over. He and Bradley would take it no further. Colin _knew_ that. He’d thought it would be a relief, to feel this certainty again. He hadn’t expected to mourn, to grieve…

Something inside him was keening for all that might have been.

♦

### Bradley

They weren’t due in Cardiff now until Tuesday, and Bradley was meant to be meeting his mates on the Saturday evening – but he knew that whoever he was with, he would end up telling them about Colin, and there was only one person he could imagine himself talking to about such things, which was how he found himself on Katie’s doorstep at about eight. Inside there was some kerfuffle and one of the songs playing loud that he’d danced to but had no idea of the title of, and when he rang the doorbell someone called out, ‘That’s not the taxi already, is it?’ A moment later whoever it was opened the door, looked him up and down and concluded, ‘Oh my… Not the taxi.’

‘Um,’ he managed. ‘Is, uh –’

‘ _Katie!_ It’s for you.’

‘What is it?’ she called from the upper regions of the house. There was another conversation going on up there, and – ominously – giggling. Apparently they were all getting ready for a girls night out. ‘What do they – Oh.’ Katie was there on the stairs now, stalled on the landing , staring down at him. Her face was made up, but her hair was still just pinned up casually as if to get it out of the way; she was wearing a glittery purple shirt over scruffy old blue jeans and bare feet.

‘Sorry,’ he said. ‘It’s a bad time.’

‘No, it’s not.’

‘You had plans.’

‘Susan,’ she said.

‘Uh huh,’ said the young woman who’d answered the door.

‘I won’t be coming out with you all tonight.’

‘Understood,’ Susan replied. And she headed off up past Katie, leaving Bradley there, still standing on the doorstep.

Katie walked slowly down the stairs. ‘Bradley James.’

‘Yeah. That’s me.’ Of course he felt a right idiot by now. What was he even doing there? And how would he answer when, any minute now, Katie asked him that very question?

‘Come in,’ she said when she reached him. ‘Come through to the kitchen. D’you want a beer or something stronger? Don’t worry – this lot will head out soon, and we’ll have the place to ourselves.’

‘Um…’ he muttered as she shut the front door behind him with forbidding finality. ‘Er…’ as she ushered him into the kitchen and waved him towards the little table set with three chairs. ‘Uh…’

‘It’s a simple question, Bradley. Probably the least threatening question of the whole evening, however it turns out. What d’you want to drink?’

‘What would you like?’ he tried.

She looked at him wryly for a moment, but then apparently decided that was a suitable reply. ‘I feel like… a bottle of red, maybe. Yes. D’you want to share, or would you prefer something else?’

‘Red wine?’

‘What else would I mean?’

‘Never know with you Irish,’ he said darkly. ‘I believe we have you to blame for green beer.’

‘Heh.’ Which was her disapproving laugh. Then she proceeded to chat about innocuous things like the weather and the following week’s filming schedule and the play she’d seen last time she was in London – all the while carefully selecting a particular bottle and dealing deftly with the cork, pouring the wine into two elegant tumblers and sitting beside him. Not in the chair across from him, but the one just round the corner from him, and he wondered what that meant, if it meant anything at all. Until at last a car horn sounded, and a gathering of giggles tap–tapped its way down the stairs and out the door, calling, ‘Bye! Night, Katie! If you can’t be good, be good at it!’ to which she cried, ‘Good night! Have fun!’ and rolled her eyes. ‘Heh.’

And then a silence stretched.

‘I suppose,’ said Bradley, ‘you’re gonna ask me why I’m here, and I’m gonna have to think of an answer.’

‘I know why you’re here,’ she said.

‘You do?’

‘You want to talk about Colin. You want to ask something, or tell me something – or maybe just say his name to someone who knows…’

‘He kissed me,’ Bradley blurted.

‘Ah.’ She put her head back for a moment. ‘All right, I didn’t see that coming.’

‘I let him –’ No, he had to be honest. With Katie, he had to be honest. ‘I  _made_ him kiss me.’

‘I see…’

‘Do you?’ God, he really wanted to know: ‘What happens next, then?’

‘What do you _want_ to happen next?’

‘Nothing. I think – nothing.’ Bradley shook his head, took a mouthful of the wine. ‘I don’t know _what_ I think. I am so fuckin’ confused!’

Katie laughed, though it wasn’t cold or mean. ‘I imagine Colin is _far_ more confused than you right now.’

‘How could he possibly be?’

‘It’s all very compartmentalised for Colin. Richard’s a gay man; he belongs in this compartment. You’re a straight man; you belong over there. I’m a straight woman; I’m over here. And that’s how he decides who could be a friend, who could be a lover. As far as he’s concerned, he was only ever expecting you to be a friend.’

‘But it’s _because_ he’s such a good friend – or was – _that’s_ why it became something more.’

‘I get that.’

‘Look,’ Bradley said, lowering his voice though he knew the house was empty around them now. ‘I’ve had friendships – with guys – that got a bit flirty. I mean, like, _genuinely_ flirty. It’s never gone this far before. Well, it’s never led _anywhere_ actually, though I guess it might have. But they were always straight, and there was always a line we knew we wouldn’t cross. Maybe. I don’t know. I feel like I hardly know _anything!_ I’ve never had to _think_ about this before! But then again, I’ve never known anyone like Colin.’

‘It’s probably just that, then. That he’s been so unexpected.’

‘It all just… ran away with me.’

‘It’ll find its equilibrium.’

‘It’ll do _what_? Look –’ he took the opportunity to bluster, ‘if you’re trying to tell me I’m gay now, and no woman’s ever gonna want me again, then just spit it out, Katie. It’s no good using these multi–syllabub words with me, you know.’

‘I’m not saying any of that. What _I_ think is that friendship and love and sex are on a continuum – on a continuous line, right? – and one can easily slide into another and then back again. It’s all messy, and the emotions are all mixed up together; it’s _not_ all clearly defined and separated into neat little boxes.’

‘Exactly! That’s what I think! I just, you know – _slid_ from one to another for a bit. Maybe.’

She grinned at him, apparently pleased that she’d made her point. ‘You think like a girl, Bradley.’

He deflated again. ‘You _do_ think I’m gay.’

‘Not that there’s anything wrong with that,’ she quipped. ‘Bradley,’ she continued in more serious tones, ‘you’re a warm, loving, enthusiastic kind of man. No woman is gonna turn you away.’

‘Well, I’m glad you understand me so well,’ he grumbled, ‘cos the rest of us are kind of struggling.’

Katie considered him for a while, and eventually she said, ‘I like you, remember?’

‘I like you, too.’

‘Well, then.’

‘Well.’

And they sat there for a few quiet minutes, drinking the wine. And then they started talking again, only not about anything very important, and they never quite reached that place again that they’d already briefly achieved – the honesty, the friendship, the liking. Whenever one of them tried to reach for that moment again, it seemed to elude their grasp.

♦

### Richard

‘Do you have plans for your birthday?’ Colin asked.

‘Oh…’ Richard glanced at the young man sitting in the director’s chair beside his own. ‘Oh yes, it’s on Monday.’

‘I know,’ said Colin with a grin. ‘How are you celebrating?’

‘Beyond a certain age, birthdays become a matter of commiseration not celebration.’

‘Richard, you’re being coy.’

‘Good heavens!’ He was far too old to be accused of such paltry stratagems. ‘I have some friends coming around on Sunday afternoon. But, Colin, I can’t –’

‘You can’t invite me along? Well, let me come see you in the evening, then, once they’re gone.’

‘But you’ll be catching a train back here. You’ll be expected in Cardiff –’

Colin was shaking his head. ‘I arranged to have Monday off. I won’t need to catch the train until Monday evening.’

‘Why did you…’ The pointless question died on his lips. ‘What did you tell them?’

‘Oh, something vague about a pressing personal matter.’ And Colin winked at him, looking delightfully cheeky.

Richard shifted around in his chair, the better to stare at this wilful young man. ‘Colin, I’ll be turning seventy–two. There is _fifty years_ between us. You mustn’t insist on trying to make this into something it can’t be.’

But Colin just smiled that sweet yet obdurate smile of his. ‘I’ll come around on Sunday evening.’ He shrugged easily, as if they’d been negotiating and had reached a compromise. ‘Actually, that suits me. I can spend the whole day house–hunting.’

‘Colin –’ he began. But then Richard decided to let it go. He might have lost this minor skirmish, but losing the war wasn’t an option he could even begin to contemplate.

♦

Colin appeared on his doorstep at seven on the Sunday evening, handed over a gift which by size, shape and weight was a bottle of something – and while Richard was distracted by that, Colin pressed a kiss to his cheek. ‘Happy birthday for tomorrow.’

‘Thank you, Colin. You needn’t have –’

‘Yes, I did. And I’m cooking you dinner.’ Colin was already inside, and glancing about him. An unerring instinct took him in the direction of the kitchen – and Richard belatedly realised the young man had two bags of groceries hanging from the fingers of his left hand.

‘Colin –’ Richard began, following him. Being led by him. Part of him feared the pattern had already been set. Another part of him welcomed it.

‘D’you want a drink? Tea? Or a nip o’ that?’ Colin asked with a nod towards the gift Richard was carrying.

‘Oh.’ Richard sat down while Colin unpacked his groceries onto the counter, poked his nose into various cupboards, and began collecting pots and utensils. Once Richard had wrestled the wrapping paper off, he discovered he held a boxed bottle of twenty–one–year–old Glengoyne single malt. ‘Colin… This is too much.’

Colin winked at him again. ‘If I was going to insist on being extravagant, I would bought you the 1972 vintage. But that makes this look quite acceptable by comparison.’

‘Yes, I imagine that it does…’

‘I’m hoping you’ll let me have a taste, too. The brochure promised…’ Colin made a show of recollecting his lines, though Richard knew he must have memorised them by now – ‘Yes, it said, _brace yourself for a riot of red apples, toffee, honey, oak, sherry and cinnamon_. Can’t say more than that, now.’

‘It does sound rather marvellous.’

‘D’you want a nip while I’m cooking? Or are you more in the mood for a cuppa?’

‘Oh, the whisky, please.’ And he sat there savouring the flavours of the neat spirit, rolling it around on his tongue trying to find the promised toffee, and enjoying the notion of being taken care of, revelling in how very much at home Colin seemed to feel though he’d never even visited Richard’s house before.

The main dish for dinner, when it was ready, was some kind of vegetable casserole that was light and tasty and substantial all at the same time. Colin was eating exactly the same thing as he’d served Richard, too, despite all his dietary rules and choices. ‘Is this –’ Richard grimaced an apology. ‘I didn’t realise you could eat so well.’

‘I do when _I_ can cook,’ Colin explained, unoffended. ‘It’s more difficult, eating out. And this is good for you, Richard. If you ate like this all the time, you could add another ten years to your life.’

‘Ah…’ Richard thought about that for a time. ‘It’s not that I want it to be over for a good long while yet,’ he eventually offered, ‘but I have to confess that, under some circumstances, another ten years would seem a rather daunting prospect.’

‘Ten _good_ years. And I’d be with you.’

‘If you were with me,’ Richard said, ‘I should want to live forever.’

‘Let’s try that, then,’ Colin easily replied.

 _Stop_ , Richard wanted to say. _Please stop_. But he couldn’t even whisper the words. After a moment, he bent his head over his dinner, took another delicious mouthful. Across the table from him, Colin Morgan shared his meal quite contentedly. And Richard wondered…

He wondered –

♦

Afterwards, of course, he realised it had been quite intentional on Colin’s part – they talked so long and so happily that Richard didn’t even realise that Colin had missed the last Tube until an hour after it was too late. ‘I’ll call you a taxi,’ Richard said, hand already on the phone.

‘Nah… Let me stay.’ Colin was looking at him steadily, easily, as if he knew he didn’t have to plead. ‘I’ll sleep on the sofa.’

‘I really don’t think –’

‘I want to be with you on your birthday.’

‘Then we’ll meet for lunch tomorrow. Somewhere halfway.’

‘I’d rather be here for breakfast first.’ Colin patted the sofa next to where he sat. ‘I’ll be fine, if you have a spare pillow.’

‘I have a spare bedroom for guests…’

Colin grinned. ‘Then I’ll really be fine.’

♦

Richard always woke early these days, so he was comfortably washed, dressed and caffeinated by the time Colin appeared, he was sitting on a stool at the breakfast bar reading the newspaper – when Colin appeared, t–shirt and shorts rumpled, hair mussed, skin soft, demeanour disarmingly vulnerable – when Colin appeared, yawning and stretching as he walked, tall and slim, healthy and perfect – as he walked without even a hint of hesitation right into Richard’s arms, pushed in without pause and pressed his mouth to Richard’s. A still moment passed. As first kisses went, it was nothing to write home about – but it was _their_ first kiss, and once the shock of it was done with, Richard’s hands spread strong across that youthful back, drawing him closer, and Colin was falling heavily down against him as if impelled by gravity – the young man felt warm, he smelled warm, he radiated bed and comfort and pleasure – and Richard’s lips parted Colin responding moaning a little the kiss becoming heady passionate _wonderful_ and –

A new epoch dawned. ‘I don’t care,’ Colin was muttering wildly, rolling his forehead against Richard’s, ‘I don’t _care_ if we never do anything but kiss and cuddle –’

‘Tell me you didn’t find anywhere new to live yesterday –’

‘– if that’s what you want – I want more, but mostly I want to _be_ with you –’ nose sliding in beside nose, then the tip of it trailing down Richard’s cheek –

‘Tell me you found the bedroom comfortable last night –’

‘Richard, _please_ , on any terms you set, probably _any_ terms –’

‘I’ve never shared my home with anyone in all these years –’

‘I know you don’t believe me –’

‘– but I want you to live here with me –’

‘– but I love you, you’ll just have to take my word for it –’

‘And I love you, too.’

Colin stared at him. They stared at each other. ‘You do?’ Colin whispered.

‘You know I do.’

 _‘But you’re finally saying that to me now?’_

‘Yes.’

Another moment of stillness. And then Colin broke into a happy grin. ‘Happy birthday! D’you like what I got you?’

‘The whisky was delicious. _A riot of red apples_ , indeed.’

‘That was just to warm you up. I’ve got your real present right here.’

Richard’s smile couldn’t help but echo Colin’s happy mischief. He played along, having no doubt what the answer would be. ‘What’s that, then?’

‘Me.’ And Colin laughed deeply, gutturally. ‘Ah, you poor sod. _Me!_ ’

‘My dear friend… I imagine I’m the luckiest sod in all the world.’

♦

[   
](http://s737.photobucket.com/albums/xx15/mrs_leary/fic/inalittlewhile/while3.jpg)

### Katie

Her phone chimed to indicate a message while Katie was almost literally standing on a pedestal for the first fitting of a possible new costume. ‘Charlotte, do you mind if I…?’

‘Of course not – if you can avoid getting too animated.’

She’d seen the name on the display by then. ‘It’s Bradley.’

‘Ah. Then we could be in trouble.’

Katie just laughed lightly as if this were more amusing than true, and she keyed up the message. ‘Let’s see what he has to say for himself…’

{U r looking so beautiful right now.}

Another laugh, though somewhat less amused, and she started typing. {How do you know?}

{Ur always beautiful. Anyway I found a way to watch.}

{U so did not.}

{Did 2.}

{Then what am I wearing right now?}

{Both too much and too little.}

{Ha ha. Answer the question.}

A long pause. She thought she had him. But eventually the phone chimed again. {Dress – sage green satin. Bodice – grey velvet 2 match ur eyes. Beautiful!}

Katie stared at this for a moment. ‘Charlotte.’

‘Yes, hon?’

‘Is there any way Bradley could see in here?’

‘No. No, of course not.’ Charlotte stood up, however, casting a concerned look around the four walls, and even up at the ceiling. ‘Well, it would take something pretty skeezy… Drilling a hole in the wall, or something of that nature.’

‘That’s not his style.’

‘No.’

Katie noticed that Charlotte’s temporary assistant had kept her head down throughout all this. ‘Never mind, Charlotte. He’s having me on.’

Charlotte remained worried, though she murmured, ‘If you’re sure…’

‘I’m sure.’ She started typing. {Ever heard of sexual harassment suits, bradley james? You’ll never work on a reputable show again.}

Silence.

{R u there? Ive saved this conversation as evidence.} The phone rang, startling them all. Katie answered it sharply. _‘What?’_

‘Katie, I swear to _god_  –’

‘You should be ashamed of yourself, James.’

‘Honestly, I’d _never_  –’

‘You are so _skeezy_ , James. Charlotte and I agreed. That’s the only word for it.’

‘Katie, _listen_ to me, _please_  –’

And she fell silent, but then so did he. Eventually she said, in a relatively normal tone, ‘Bradley.’

‘Katie, I swear to you that I can’t see you right now. I did something stupid. I got that stuff about the colours – Don’t ask me how, cos she doesn’t deserve to get into trouble over this. It’s just meant to be a stupid prank, I  _promise_ you.’

She remained forbiddingly silent.

‘I didn’t think it through. I’m sorry, Katie.’

Finally she let out a huff of breath, half annoyed, but half wry as well. ‘I know. Don’t worry. I was just giving you a scare with the sexual harassment thing.’

‘Oh. Really?’

‘Gotcha,’ she said, a bit lamely cos he’d actually been scared.

‘Oh.’ He sighed gustily, finally relaxing. ‘Thank god. Did you know all along?’

‘No, but… sage green? You wouldn’t know it if it bit you on the arse.’

‘True. Very true. Um… is that the sort of thing that it’s likely to do?’

‘Why, you sound almost hopeful there, James,’ she tartly observed. Before he had the chance to respond, though, she added, ‘We’re busy people here. Don’t bother me again until tonight!’

‘Tonight? What’s happening tonight?’

‘You can take me out to dinner to make up for all this.’

‘Oh. Oh! All right.’

‘Bye, James.’

‘Thank you, Katie.’

And she ended the call. The assistant still had her head down. Katie tapped her shoulder, just gently, with the pointed toe of Morgana’s gorgeous new boots. ‘You should know better,’ she observed.

‘Yes, Miss McGrath. I’m very sorry.’

Charlotte was staring daggers at the girl.

‘Good,’ said Katie. ‘Well. No real harm done.’

♦

### Colin

Colin and Richard’s first days together were long and warm and lazy. The summer blessed them with heat in London and even in Cardiff so that the days _glowed_. Colin basked in it all – the love, the utter contentment, the bone–melting weather – and Richard would go for hours at a time without telling him how impossible all this was. They were happy in each other’s company, reading, talking, drinking wine or whisky, cooking, snuggling, kissing. It was comfortable. They were already profoundly _comfortable_ with each other. Colin said as much one Saturday evening as they relaxed in Richard’s garden, lying side by side on his decadent double–width lounger. The sun was lowering, and had lost its earlier punch, but still it wouldn’t set for hours yet, and the glow would linger on forever… ‘I love this,’ Colin murmured, slipping closer and letting his head come to rest against Richard’s shoulder. ‘I’ve never felt more comfortable in my _life_.’

‘Comfortable?’ Richard echoed. ‘That’s awful,’ he said, and he meant it though he was too content himself to raise his voice or sound at all harsh. ‘Colin, that’s awful.’

‘Wonderful,’ he corrected.

‘You’re becoming old before your time,’ Richard murmured. ‘You should be out there partying, or doing whatever young people do these days.’

Colin tilted his head, scrunched up his face. ‘Not majorly interested right now. Anyway, I have my friends. I’ll still go out with them, if that’s not going to bother you.’

‘It shouldn’t matter whether it bothers me or not. You have to live your own life, Colin.’

‘Of course.’ Colin shifted over onto his side, and back a little, so that they could focus on each other. He loved that they could talk about things like this – the most important things – without creating any unnecessary drama. ‘Sorry, I put that badly. I’ll still go out with them regardless. That’s fine. It won’t be often, though. It never was.’

‘But –’

‘I like what we have here, Richard. I feel _content_. Tell me if I’m wrong, but I think real contentment is rare.’

Richard was looking at him very earnestly, with the complete selflessness of real love. ‘You should be happy, not content. Not at your age. It should be summer for you – it should still be late spring! – not autumn already.’

‘It _is_ summer, and I am soaking it up…’

‘Colin –’

‘People have been saying I’m an old soul most of my life. This suits me.’

‘But –’

‘I can’t get _everything_ I need from one person,’ Colin argued. ‘But there are things I want from you, Richard. There’ll be other things I get from Neil, my parents, my friends, Bradley. But I want you in my life. And not just as a friend.’

Richard turned away and gazed up at the sky, and he was silent. Colin snuggled closer, stretched out long beside the man, slid an arm around his waist. After a while, Richard’s hand lifted to shape itself to Colin’s forearm. And Richard sighed, though he spoke without a great deal of regret. ‘I wish I wasn’t such a selfish old bastard.’

‘I’ve never been happier,’ Colin murmured in response. And they were both quiet then, as the evening flowed peacefully by.

♦

Saturday night. Saturday night back in London having left Cardiff that morning. Saturday night and Colin met up with his mates, and the best thing about them was that no matter what else changed in their lives – no matter who went to college on the other side of the world, who got married or divorced or fathered a child, who was working, who was skint, no matter whose dreams had come true, whose illusions had been shattered – no matter how much the world around them changed, they remained. ‘Six weeks since I saw you last,’ Colin found himself opining to Dan, one arm flung around the man’s shoulders and the other hand nursing a beer. ‘Six weeks –’

‘Seven, actually. But who’s counting?’

‘Seven weeks, and it’s like I saw you all yesterday.’

‘Didn’t miss us, then? That your point?’

‘Low maintenance: that’s my point.’

Dan laughed, and grabbed another beer from Jem as he squeezed past. Jem shot him a withering look, but proffered another in their direction. ‘Colin?’

‘Nah… I’m doin’ fine here.’

‘Low maintenance,’ Dan agreed. ‘You don’t even cost much in beer these days.’

‘I don’t, it’s true,’ Colin agreed, smiling beatifically – and even he was aware that it was very early in the evening, and he was still rather too sober, for such expansive warmth.

‘But I don’t think you should be takin’ me for granted, mate. You didn’t even poke me on my birthday this year.’

‘I had a similar complaint myself last year,’ another voice chimed in.

Colin spun on his heel. ‘Siggy!’ He fell into the man’s arms, and clutched on tight. ‘Oh Siggy…’

‘Hello, Colin.’

‘Anyway, you _so_ did not,’ he babbled on in Sigmund’s ear. ‘Have a complaint, I mean. I distinctly remember a great deal of poking going on for your birthday… Yes, lots of poking, every which way we could think of…’

‘Oh god,’ Dan muttered, ‘I was talking facebook. That’s my cue to retire gracefully.’

Colin freed an arm to pat at Dan’s retreating rear, cos even his straight friends let him flirt and he loved them for it. ‘Next birthday, I promise!’ he called. ‘All the poking you can handle!’ Then Colin leaned in close to confide to his ex: ‘Oops! I just ended in a preposition.’

Sigmund chuckled. ‘I’m sure you did, lover. And a sweet little, neat little preposition it is, too.’

‘Lots of poking… in every which way of which we could think…’ Colin frowned. ‘Nah…’

‘You’re in a good mood,’ Siggy observed a bit wistfully.

They were still wrapped up around each other. It was nice. Colin swayed a little, to and fro, and Siggy followed him, then gently began to lead him – which was about as close as Colin ever got to dancing. ‘In every way… of which we could think? Nah… Loses all its poetry! In the cause of grammar! What’s the point o’ that?’

‘No point at all…’ Sigmund sighed, and tucked his balding ginger head in against Colin’s throat. ‘Oh, I miss you when you’re like this.’

‘Siggy… Siggy,’ he announced: ‘I’m in love!’

‘That would do it,’ the man dolefully agreed.

‘Siggy Siggy Siggy… I love. I love him.’

‘Yeah, I know, lover. I know.’

‘What d’you know?’

‘I knew it would come at last. Too late for me. But just in time for you.’

‘Dearest Siggy…’ And they swayed there together for an hour or more, to the music they shared that no one else could hear.

♦

It was early. The cool summer morning had already dawned, though hardly anyone was about to enjoy the freshness. Colin flagged down a taxi to head home, but after a while he couldn’t bear to be cooped up and not breathing the air, so he paid the man off and walked the rest of the way. The day had begun, but even Richard wasn’t up yet – though Colin knew somehow that the man would be awake, perhaps dozing a little in that perfect sense of warmth and contentment that pervaded everything these days.

As he walked down the hallway, Colin paused momentarily to heel off his shoes, then began stripping off his clothes, shedding the last of them as he entered Richard’s room, strode naked to the man’s bed and climbed in beside him, shifted towards him with steadfast intent. _‘Colin…’_ Richard murmured, and he might still have been half asleep, but his arms reached out and at last gathered Colin close. Then they were kissing, and Colin was moving against Richard, moving half over him, one hand slowly slipping down further down to press his palm against hardness. Richard gasped, ‘Colin!’ And Colin shifted again, heaved up to arrange them, cock against cock with his hand wrapped around both. It was hot and dry and intense, the delicate skin and the steely engorgement, the ridges formed by his fingers rubbing rippling _firm_ just how he liked it, how he hoped Richard liked it, there was so much yet to discover about this wonderful man – and finally finally they were together, wholly together, Richard groaning his name now – and Colin couldn’t hold himself back, didn’t want to refrain from anything other than an honest response – within moments he was coming, the pulse of it throbbing along his cock, Richard holding him tight, hands perfectly pressed in the small of his back, Richard moaning wildly as seed spread between them, easing the way – Colin gasping now, too, as his cock lost its edge in hardness but gained in sensitivity, and it was amazing but it was too much _too much_ he groaned – then Richard was coming, too, pushing up bucking up against him, crying out, _‘Colin –’_

‘Love you, I love you –’

‘No, oh no, no, my dear friend…’

‘It’s true. It’s true.’

‘I know, oh God help me, I know – and you know that I love you, too.’

‘I know. It’s the best thing in the world.’

Richard chuckled as if even now he wouldn’t believe it. ‘Did you only just get in? Sleep now, Colin. Go to sleep…’

‘Stay here with me,’ Colin mumbled as he started slipping away.

‘For a little while, my dear. Just for a little while…’

♦

### Bradley

It had become clear to Bradley that Katie was all kinds of awesome, but that just made her even scarier. Unexpectedly, she didn’t give him a hard time or even seem to remember about the costume voyeur prank, and he didn’t know whether that was because she’d heard about the fact he’d sent an enormous bunch of flowers to Charlotte and taken the assistant – Veronica – out for lunch by way of an apology. Whenever he could, Bradley hung around near Katie, hardly daring to say or do anything other than listen gloomily to his iPod, which was now randomly throwing sad songs his way when really even he knew that he needed cheering up.

Colin was about the only person who never failed to put a smile on Bradley’s face these days, despite the recent confusions over the straight–gay and friendship–love continuums… Colin was happy. He was so very _happy_ , and Bradley was drawn to that like he was to the sun. Once the two of them had gotten the measure of each other earlier that year, they’d had so much fun together, but now with Colin bubbling over with joy, it was just totally awesome to hang out with him.

It was awesome, that is, until Bradley worked out the reason why Colin’s smile was so bright.

♦

He walked in on them kissing. Unbelievable. Colin’s trailer door was unlocked, and Colin was handing a fresh cup of tea over to Richard who was standing with his rear propped on the little table, and apparently Colin had taken the opportunity to lean in close and press a kiss to Richard’s mouth. Not a tongue–and–all kind of kiss, but still the sort that was unmistakeable. Then Colin lifted away, and murmured something affectionate to Richard with the most beautiful grin.

Richard was looking quietly happy, too, until he glimpsed Bradley, and turned to face him with a pensive solemnity. A moment later Colin caught up, and turned as well to look at Bradley. Deliberately didn’t draw away from Richard or try to pretend this was anything other than what it seemed to be. Though even in the midst of his _shock! horror!_ reactions, Bradley felt grief over Colin’s luminosity turning a bit dull and defiant.

‘Bradley,’ said Colin, in a clipped acknowledgement of his presence.

‘Colin,’ he managed in strangled tones… Then it burst out of him: _‘What the **fuck** , Colin?’_

And then he turned and walked out. He couldn’t bear this. He didn’t understand it and he couldn’t bear it.

‘Bradley!’ Colin called after him impatiently.

But he didn’t stop or go back. He didn’t even pause.

♦

As luck would have it, the next scene they had to film focussed on Arthur being in an irritable mood with Merlin. Bradley didn’t even need to rehearse for that. Once they’d blocked out the scene, he nailed every shot in one take. The director, Ed Fraiman, watched this with a rather wary brand of approval as if waiting to wake up and discover it was all a dream, and actually Bradley James was as ever finding new ways to ruin each take.

Colin ran with it in his usual obliging Colin Morgan way, and Merlin’s jaw didn’t set any more mulish than usual. But afterwards Colin followed Bradley to his trailer, and would not be shaken off.

‘Bradley,’ Colin at last began once it was just the two of them behind a closed door. ‘I realise that wasn’t the best way to find out, but –’

‘But _what the fuck, Colin?!_ What the hell is _wrong_ with you?’

Colin was all stubborn defiance now. ‘I told you that I –’

‘ _Don’t_ give me that line about liking older men. Richard’s a nice guy – we _all_ love him, for god’s sake – but he’s old enough to be your _grandfather_.’

A pained look undercut the defiance. ‘Would you _mind_ not shouting loud enough for everyone to hear? We want to be discreet.’

‘Yeah, and I wonder why!’ he retorted. ‘Honestly, I’d have a hard enough time with this if he was your father’s age, but there must be, like… _forty_ years between you, or something.’

‘Fifty,’ Colin offered with a shrug as he slid his hands into his pockets. ‘Almost exactly fifty.’

‘Fifty fucking years… Unbelievable. He was already old when you were born!’

‘Fuck’s sake, Bradley, what does it even matter?’

‘It’s _wrong_. You can’t tell me you don’t know that. If it wasn’t wrong, you wouldn’t bother being discreet.’

‘It’s _private_ , that’s what it is. We’re entitled – _all_ of us, Bradley, gay or straight – to have a private life. We’re entitled not to share our love with the whole world.’

‘Love?’ Bradley shook his head. ‘If it’s love, why does it have to be private even from your friends? You know it’s wrong. Or you would have already told me! I mean, you didn’t even tell me you _liked_ him like that.’

Colin sighed, and turned away a little as if considering how to say what he wanted to say next. Eventually, in conciliatory tones: ‘Look, Bradley, I know that you felt… something for me. For a while. If you –’

‘This has _nothing_ to do with that!’

Even Colin almost lost it then. ‘Right, so the problem isn’t that you’re feeling a wee bit jealous right now?’

‘Jealous of Richard?’ he responded in a huff. ‘Certainly not.’ Then he found himself blurting out, ‘You could have had me, Colin Morgan. I was yours for the taking.’

The look Colin gave him then was… indescribable. Blue eyes luminous with an ocean of affection, mouth soft with a world of sympathy. But Colin said, quietly and firmly, ‘You’re a friend, Bradley. Maybe a _real_ friend. And I do care about you. But not like I care about Richard. If you can’t accept that –’

‘Don’t you _dare_ threaten me.’

‘It wasn’t going to be a threat.’

‘Get out!’ he cried, unable to take this any longer. _‘Just get the fuck out of my trailer!’_

The sympathy on Colin’s beautiful face transformed into an aching sorrow, just for a moment before Colin got stubborn again – then Colin turned and left, swiftly, so that by the time he next drew breath Bradley was alone. He’d thought that’s what he wanted.

♦

### Richard

Colin had bought these slim, alarmingly expensive–looking speakers and hooked them up to Richard’s portable CD player, so that they could listen to Bach and Elgar, Beethoven and Vaughan Williams without suffering the shrill sound reproduction available from sharing Colin’s earphones. They lay together on the bed in Richard’s hotel room in Cardiff, Richard resting back against a luxury of piled pillows and the headboard, and Colin curled up at his side, head tucked neatly against Richard’s shoulder. Richard could have asked for nothing more. But then in the midst of the strong sad yearning of the fantasia on a theme by Thomas Tallis, Colin began kissing Richard, and they pressed close knowing that life was too short and love too rare to be put aside. Colin – dear sweet wild Colin – shifting against him, supple and lithe and wise, wise enough for both of them – and Richard let it happen again, the gentle innocence of hands and mouths seeking out each other’s deepest longings and meeting them, blessing each other with more than they’d ever dare ask for – and it was beautiful, even Richard felt beautiful because the _feelings_ were beautiful and the love was real, the love was endless ache and infinite benevolence all at once – and when the end welled within him, and rolled endless through him, drawn out by Colin’s generous provocative fingers, then Richard knew that life could offer nothing more magnificent than this, the profoundly simple pleasure to be found with his last best love.

♦

‘That was beautiful,’ Richard murmured afterwards.

‘It would be; it’s such beautiful music,’ Colin responded. ‘That one was… sort of familiar.’

‘You’ll have heard it in film soundtracks, that’s why. It was infinitely sad in _Master and Commander_ , but mostly it’s just beautiful.’

‘Yeah, I really do _get_ that now. I knew I’d learn so much from you.’

‘And I you,’ Richard insisted. ‘Mmm…’ he mused, ‘if we have beautiful sex while listening to a beautiful piece by Vaughan Williams, what kind of sex would we have while listening to your Sweet Taxi of Death or whatever they’re called…?’

Colin lifted his head to stare at him in a moment’s puzzlement. But then he spluttered into laughter. ‘Death Cab for Cutie!’

‘Oh yes,’ Richard said with light irony. ‘That makes so much more sense.’

Another chortle. ‘Well, we’ll just have to find out one day. About the sex, I mean. And the music.’

‘I’m game if you are!’

‘ _God_ I love you.’

Richard caught him up close and held on.

♦

Of course it was the very next morning that Bradley – who’d hardly even spoken to Richard since he’d walked in on Colin kissing him – finally confronted him. Not that it would have been by choice, perhaps, but they were filming a rare scene featuring Gaius and Arthur together, and during the interminable waiting around, it became inevitable that Bradley could restrain himself no longer. ‘You shouldn’t be taking advantage,’ he blurted shortly. ‘I expected more from you. You should know better.’

‘I’d be flattered,’ Richard smoothly retorted, ‘if you really thought I’d ever be able to take advantage of a young man who most certainly knows his own mind.’

‘Oh right,’ he came back with flat sarcasm. ‘So it was all his idea, was it?’

‘I did everything I could not to encourage him.’

‘ _Right._ Like you didn’t want him, too.’

Richard sighed, and decided it wouldn’t be diplomatic to thank Bradley for that one word _too_. ‘If it’s any comfort, I know it won’t last long – of course it won’t. He’ll soon find someone more suitable. Bradley, you’re generous enough to let me have this little while, are you not?’

‘But he won’t walk away,’ Bradley argued. ‘He’s not the type to walk away. You must know that!’

‘He’s the type who’ll do what he will. I’m sure you won’t believe – I hardly dare believe it myself – that I was worth besieging, but besiege me he did, and I resisted as long as I could. He’s not someone who’ll take no for an answer.’

‘Of course he would! He wouldn’t force anyone against their will.’

‘But he knew it wasn’t against my will. How could it be?’

‘Then you didn’t resist him very hard, did you?’

‘Would you have?’

Bradley scowled at him, and muttered, ‘Well. Obviously you know I wouldn’t.’

Richard considered the young man for long moments, and concluded, ‘You won’t ever forgive me, will you?’

‘How can I? I don’t understand! It’s wrong. You have to see that it’s wrong.’

‘It’s not wrong, Bradley – but neither is it meant to be. He’ll walk away soon. Let me have my moment in the sun, and I’ll do everything I can to make sure he takes no real harm from it. Let me have that before twilight falls.’

‘I can’t exactly _let_ you have anything, can I! You’re both gonna do what you want to do, whether I like it or not. But I _don’t_ like it, Richard. Don’t ask me to approve, cos you’ll be disappointed.’

‘Fair enough,’ Richard murmured – and luckily they were called to the set a moment later.

♦

### Katie

‘I don’t understand,’ Bradley was agonising, low and intense, over a pint of Kilkenny. ‘What is he even _thinking_?’

‘I don’t know,’ Katie murmured, before absently savouring another mouthful of Guinness. She was still a bit rocked by Bradley’s revelation, but not as much as he obviously was.  Colin and Richard. Colin Morgan and Richard Wilson – darling loveable men, both of them, but it was hardly the most predictable relationship. For either of them. ‘Well,’ she offered. ‘Stranger things have happened at sea.’

Bradley glowered at her. ‘They have not. And what does that even mean, anyway?’

‘You can’t help who you love, Bradley.’

‘No,’ he agreed with a wistful sigh.

‘And even if it was a matter of choice, Colin Morgan is never going to do the expected, is he?’

‘I even said to him, _I was yours for the taking_ … Katie, I’m…’

‘And Richard is _adorable_ ,’ she continued. ‘Totally and entirely loveable.’

‘Oh not you, too,’ Bradley complained, gently lowering his forehead to the table as if contemplating never raising it again.

‘It may surprise you to know that I can actually see it working.’

‘But he’s… I don’t know… It can’t have escaped your attention that Richard is, uh… _getting on in years_.’

Katie laughed. ‘We’re never too old for love.’

‘Oh god…’ he muttered in disgust.

‘I’d like to know how you’ll respond when you’re in your seventies, and someone tries telling _you_ that you’re too old for love.’

‘Oh _please_. Anyway, it’s not just hearts and flowers and violins, is it? It’s gotta be fireworks as well.’

‘What?’

‘They must be _doing it_.’

‘Must they?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, and what if they are? As long as it’s all in working order, who really cares what they do with it? And even if it isn’t… God, Bradley, there have been times in my life when I would have done _anything_ for a little simple physical affection.’

‘I said to him – I said, _I’m yours for the taking_ , and –’

‘Are you jealous, Bradley?’

‘No!’ he protested, sitting up again at last. ‘ _God_ , no. Anyway,’ Bradley added. ‘Anyway, Katie.’ He looked away for a long moment, even turned away. Then downed half his remaining beer before declaring, ‘Anyway. Katie. I like you.’

‘Is that so?’

‘Yeah. It is.’ Bradley looked at her kind of defiantly, kind of defencelessly. ‘I like you.’

‘You loved Colin.’

The defiance withered. ‘You said no woman’s gonna turn me away cos of that!’

‘But, _like_. Didn’t someone say… that’s a pale version of love? Like is watered–down love. Mediocre.’

‘No,’ he continued, on firmer ground now. ‘Liking someone – _really liking_ someone unconditionally – is amazing. It’s rare.’

‘It’s powerful stuff,’ she commented, whimsically. ‘It changes things.’

Bradley was nodding earnestly. ‘It’s true. It’s true. Katie, I’m yours –’

But he didn’t have to say it. Katie reached across the table to place her hand lightly on the back of his, hushing him, letting him fall silent. After all this time, it didn’t need saying.

Because suddenly she knew. Colin Morgan might not have known what to do with Bradley James. But Katie McGrath did.

♦

### Colin

Richard’s home – the house Colin now shared with Richard – had transformed from a place of peace and contentment to one of constant arguments. Not that they ever shouted or even raised their voices at each other, but Richard could no longer quiet his misgivings, and Colin wouldn’t let Richard’s assertions go unanswered.

‘We could never be honest about this,’ Richard announced once over dinner. ‘We could never _come out_ as a couple. It would be impossible.’

To which Colin shrugged, unconcerned. ‘Does it matter?’

‘But that’s the sort of sadness that people of my generation had to look forward to. A sadness that often turned tragic. It’s so different now. You can live openly.’

‘There’s still some relationships that you can’t be open about, I’ll bet. We’re one of them.’

‘But you don’t know how lucky you are, to grow up _not_ being told how wrong you are. And now you’re missing out on something wonderful.’

Colin just shook his head in disbelief. ‘What you’re telling me is that I can live the life I want – aren’t you? So, let me. Cos what I want is right here.’

Richard remained dissatisfied and unconvinced. One afternoon, he continued, ‘A young man such as yourself, so close to his family – well, you want to be able to tell them, don’t you? About things such as being in a serious relationship? You must feel able to confide in them. But then – how would I ever behave towards them after that? It would be impossible!’

‘If you don’t think you could handle my parents,’ Colin equably replied, ‘then I’ll make sure they never know. I’ll make sure you never even meet them. As far as they’re concerned, you’re letting me use the guest bedroom after my housing crisis, that’s all. They think you’re wonderful – and they’re not wrong!’

‘Oh but such delusions… it’s not fair on you. Certainly not on them.’

He shrugged again, taking the opportunity to shift against Richard, to stretch within the man’s arms where they rested together on the lounger in the garden. ‘There’s plenty they don’t know about me, nor me about them – that’s just the way it is. Doesn’t mean we love each other any the less.’ Colin lifted his head a little to catch Richard’s fretful gaze. ‘If it helps – Neil, you’ve got no problem with. We’re brothers. _Brothers._ We couldn’t stand each other as kids, but he’s my best mate now. He’ll stick by me, no matter what.’

‘Even with me at your side?’

‘Yes. _Yes_ ,’ he said fiercely. ‘Sure, and he might think it weird for a while, he might rib me about it. But he’d defend it to the death, if he knows it’s what I want.’

‘And is it?’ Richard asked, hushed.

‘Yes,’ Colin replied in clear certain tones. ‘You really should trust me about that.’

‘Oh I want to, my dear friend. I  _want_ to.’

‘Then do it. Be brave enough to trust me.’

‘I don’t want to hold you back,’ Richard confessed late one night as he lay there stretched out on his back in his bed, apparently pretending that Colin wasn’t wrapped around him like a particularly tenacious naked octopus.

‘Is there anything I actually _want_ that you’d be holding me back from?’

‘There must be. All that life has to offer. You’ll only find such a very small part of it here with me.’

‘Small or large, it’s a part of life that I want.’ Colin sighed. ‘I’ll be off to France again on Monday.’

‘I’ll be there in two weeks,’ Richard observed. Though he didn’t sound thrilled about it.

‘Will you miss me? Or will you like having your home to yourself again?’

‘How can you even ask? I’ll miss you like I’d miss the sun if it ever went out.’

‘So why are you trying to push me away?’

‘I just assumed… you’d have left of your own accord by now. You’d have already moved on. You must see that’s the best thing for you to do.’

‘I’m not going anywhere,’ Colin avowed. ‘Not while we still love each other. And I _know_ you love me, Richard.’

‘I do, yes.’ A silence stretched, though Colin knew Richard would hardly leave the disagreement there. Eventually Richard commented, ‘In all my life, I’ve never yet had a proper long–term relationship.’

‘Cos you didn’t want to?’

‘Oh, I _have_ wanted to. Desperately at times. But it never happened. I tried a few times, but it was never successful. I should think that by now I hardly even know how to make one work.’

‘So, we’ll learn together. I managed a year with Siggy. He deserved more. I’ll do better for you, I promise.’

‘Colin –’

‘Richard, we’re going to try.’

‘Experience has taught me not to hope for much.’

‘Richard. I love you. I want to be with you. Hope has nothing to do with it. It’s already happening.’

‘Then I suppose… we might try.’

‘Yes. We will.’

‘Well, then.’ And Richard turned his head to press a kiss to Colin’s hair, turned his body into Colin’s embrace. And the peace they shared slowly returned, flowing through them and through their home and through all of London, and as they made love – perhaps _truly_ made love for the first time – Colin thought of the black velvet night keeping them safe and the glow of the moon blessing them.

♦

### Bradley

He’d been bored and he’d hardly seen anyone while filming alone on a day that proved long and busy, and as a way of coping with all that he’d sent Katie a stream of texts, so Bradley wasn’t overly surprised when she knocked on his hotel room door that night. ‘Hey,’ he said, unable to help grinning at her like a loon. She was so very beautiful, the beauty just shone out of her, and she was so much fun to hang out with – and if there had once been a time when she had done little more than remind him of Colin that was long past.

‘Hey yourself. Can I come in?’ She seemed a little nervous, and was showing it, which was unlike her – usually any nerves were deliberately hidden behind a bright smile.

‘Sure,’ he said, standing back to let her in. Letting the door swing closed behind them. ‘D’you want a drink or something?’

‘Bradley, I want –’ Katie looked at him standing there. They both seemed stranded in random places in the room. Awkwardness descended, which would have clued Bradley in if nothing else had. ‘Bradley, is this something you want? I was going to wait until the end of the season, so we’d have months to get past this if I’m blundering, but… is this something –’

‘Yes,’ he at last managed to blurt out. ‘Katie. Yes.’

‘Kiss me, then. Bradley, I want you to kiss me now.’

It was possible, then, it was simple and easy. He was freed from any doubts and fears by the clarity of her wishes. Without even murmuring _yes_ , Bradley stepped over to her and took her in his arms, swept her up into the best kiss he knew how to give – and her arms went around his shoulders, and she moaned encouragingly into mouth as her lips parted for him – _Katie McGrath, my god_ , he thought dazedly – and he didn’t quite dare accept the invitation, but the tip of her tongue flicked at his lower lip, and he blindly pushed to meet it, slipped shyly inside her – and she was sucking hard on his tongue, not only welcoming him but drawing him in, and they _kissed_ and _kissed_ until at last they parted panting for breath, her luminous grey eyes seeing him seeing _all_ of him, and his own must have been shining just as bright as her smile.

‘Undress me,’ Katie said. Wanting to be as much of a gentleman as he could, his hands went to the hem of his own sweater rather than hers, thinking he’d match her piece for piece, and he’d go first, but she reached out to touch gentle fingertips to his forearm, stalling him. ‘No. Undress _me_.’

And he nodded, happy to comply with her command. He unzipped her hoodie, and slipped it back off her shoulders. Clumsy, he was going to fold it as best he could and put it behind him on the shelves, but she said, ‘Let it fall,’ so he nodded his understanding again, and let it drop to the carpet beside them. Then he lifted her t–shirt off, shifted it up and over her head, her raised arms. Blushed as he saw her lovely pale torso, and her lilac bra cupping the most gorgeous breasts. Bradley bent down to press a kiss to the perfect round of her shoulder, and she whispered, ‘That’s nice…’

When he stood again, he wasn’t quite brave enough to continue, and again his hands went to the hem of his own sweater – but this time she stopped him with firm fingers circling his wrist. ‘No. It’s all right, Bradley. I meant it. Undress _me_.’ And it dawned on him then with a sense of wonder that maybe this time, maybe with Katie, there would be no confusion at all – _ever_ – no uncertainties or mixed signals. She would tell him what she wanted, and he would be so happy to give it to her, so very happy. He slipped his hands around her back to find the clasp on her bra, and was tall enough to step close and peer down to make sure he had it right – but he did, and a moment later he was slowly pushing the loose bra–straps down her arms, and she was revealed, so beautiful, so very beautiful. He leant down to press a kiss just at the top of a breast where it gently swelled away from her chest.

‘Good,’ she whispered, and her nipples looked so utterly enticingly hard and tasty though he didn’t dare take it further just yet. He was required right now to undress her, after all. ‘May I?’ he asked, indicating the bed by which they stood. She didn’t seem to quite understand, but she nodded, and he grasped her by her slim waist, and suddenly lifted her up to stand her on the foot of the bed. She laughed, a lovely bubbling laugh – in surprise and delight, he thought, with him not _at_ him – and she rested her hands on his shoulders for balance while he bent to deal with her ballet pump shoes, to reveal her sweet shapely white feet.

Then his hands were at the buttons of her jeans, just below his eye level, and he gazed up at her beautiful anticipatory face while he slowly slowly unpopped one button after another, carefully not touching or brushing against anything other than brass and denim. Shaped his hands to her waist and then slipped them down inside, her skin warmer there where it had been encased – slipped down inside the lilac knickers, and then pushed the lot down her thighs in one swift move – she laughed again, giddy, maybe as intoxicated as he was.

He didn’t look while he helped her step out of the jeans and knickers, while he let them fall with her other clothes. But then he stood, and she straightened up, too. They weren’t touching, but she stood there upright and true with her arms relaxed at her sides, and he was allowed to look, he took in her beautiful curves, her flat planes, the lovely soft roundness of her belly – he leaned in to press another kiss there – and then the dark hair arrowing down… ‘Your tongue,’ she said. ‘Give me your tongue’ – and he wrapped his hands firm around her hips, and bent to let his tongue delve into the mysteries of her cleft, to niggle and then rasp against the magical little nodule of flesh that had her gasping in shock – ‘Bradley James!’ He pressed his mouth close in an **_o_** , and suckled gently, so that her hands grasped his shoulders hard. ‘Oh,’ she moaned, ‘you can do that to me _forever_ …’ and he hummed inarticulate surrendering agreement.

Forever didn’t last very long, though, or not in this particular instance. ‘Stop,’ she gasped after a while. _‘Stop,’_ she repeated, pushing gently at his head when he proved reluctant. But at last he stood before her again, and he didn’t wipe his mouth – she bent down to kiss him, to lick at his warm damp lips. ‘Now,’ she said when she was done – and her tone was heightened, her pace more urgent now – ‘Now I want to watch you undress.’ And he stepped back and complied, not making a show of it, but not hurrying either, and he blushed when she could see how hard he was for her, but it was only what she deserved, after all, it was a righteous tribute to her. When he straightened up and let her look at him, just as he was, she smiled. Their gazes met – hungry, giddy, a little awestruck. This was _intense_. ‘Do you have condoms?’ she asked, just very easily.

‘Yes.’

‘Good. I brought my own, too.’

‘Good,’ he echoed, glad that she took care of herself, that she wanted to take care of him.

‘Come here, then…’ And she dropped back to sit on the bed, leaning back on her hands, to shift back along it – and he knelt on the end of the bed, then followed her, prowling after her on his hands and knees – and she welcomed him into an embrace, they were holding each other, encompassing each other, kissing, kissing and mouthing and shifting skin against skin – and then she cried she groaned _‘Fuck me!’_ and after a brief unembarrassed pause to roll a rubber onto him, he was sinking down and further down into her snug damp cunt, reaching down to rub his thumb–pad against her hot little clit – and her thighs were clutching at his waist as she lifted herself up into him just as he was moving into her – and they were joined together, it was the most awesome thing ever –

And he loved _he loved_ that Katie knew what she wanted, and Bradley wanted to give that to her no matter what it was, and there could be no confusion no doubts, just this – just love and generosity and friendship and the most intense pleasure he’d ever even imagined.

♦

### Richard

The four of them were sitting in the lounge area of the hotel in France one evening, Bradley and Katie glowing with that sense of new–found–love that made for the most forgivable kind of smugness, and Colin blissfully beautifully content at Richard’s side on a sofa that was small enough to almost force them to be indiscreet – and Richard was beginning to wonder why he’d tried to deny himself this, why on earth he’d assumed Colin would be happier elsewhere – when cold reality dashed back over him in the form of Neil Morgan approaching from the lobby.

Colin grinned up at his brother in welcome, but had the grace to dart an apologetic glance at Richard – and after all perhaps it was better this way, with Richard not being warned and therefore not having the chance to avoid the meeting nor suffer the anxiety of anticipating it. Neil greeted them all and shook everyone’s hand – Richard feeling a pang of guilt as he returned the gesture – but then Neil started making his excuses, saying he’d need to go find another hotel, theirs was full, and in fact the reception staff didn’t hold out much hope of finding anything else in the town centre.

‘Don’t do that,’ Colin protested. ‘You can have my room.’

‘I thought about sharing, but you have really early calls all week, don’t you? You’ll need a good night’s sleep.’

‘You can have my room,’ Colin repeated with a slightly more significant tone. ‘I’ll be fine elsewhere.’

Neil glanced at the others, and specifically at Bradley even though he was obviously with Katie rather than Colin. ‘Um –’

Colin rescued him. ‘Come and get a round of drinks with me. Same again, all?’

They assented to this, and Colin and Neil headed off towards the bar, leaving Richard alone and fretting. He deliberately kept his head turned away, not watching, not infringing on the brothers’ privacy.

Katie took pity on him, and began discussing Shakespeare and how best the poetry of it might be delivered in these days of realism and prose. Bradley appeared baffled by most of their back–and–forth, and when Richard asked his opinion, replied, ‘I can’t see me ever doing Shakespeare.’

‘You must have studied the plays in drama school.’

‘Yeah. But I never got the hang of it.’

‘I saw that vid of you delivering your soliloquy,’ Katie argued. ‘You were great!’

‘I was lost.’

‘Maybe you’d do better in a two–hander with someone to bounce off of,’ Richard suggested.

Colin turned up with drinks for the three of them, and shrugged apologetically. ‘Give us a minute, yeah?’

They all murmured agreement, of course. Richard turned to see Neil waiting by the bar with two more drinks, frowning a bit – but he lifted his chin in acknowledgement when he saw Richard looking. Richard nodded nervously, and turned back around. ‘I can’t think why I ever felt that this was a good idea,’ he muttered.

‘He’ll be fine with it,’ Katie said with utter confidence.

‘Oh.’

‘He’ll be happy for you,’ she asserted.

‘The Irish are truly a blessed race,’ Richard intoned. ‘You know,’ he added, turning to Bradley in desperation, ‘I’ve never played Shakespeare, though I really must. Well, I took one turn as Capulet with RADA, many _many_ years before you were even born. You’d be doing me a great favour if you’d do a few read–throughs with me. My agent is starting to push.’

‘Oh,’ said Bradley. ‘Well, that would be… That would be cool. But wouldn’t Colin –’

‘He’s already so good,’ Richard confided. ‘What say you and I try to catch up with him?’

And Bradley grinned. ‘Sure. That would be great.’

Which was when Colin dropped back into his seat, and Neil leaned in across him, reaching to shake Richard’s hand. ‘This is very good news,’ Neil said gamely.

‘Oh dear. I can’t believe you really think so.’

‘I do, though,’ he countered with rather more sincerity. ‘Col was always gonna choose someone unusual.’

‘Well, yes, but…’

‘You make him happy. I know he’s been happier these past months. I thought that was just about the work. I’m glad it’s about you as well.’

Richard could feel himself tearing up, and was lost for words. How foolish old men could be.

‘We’re all glad,’ said Katie with the most affectionate smile.

‘Oh dear…’

Which was when Colin slipped his hand into Richard’s, hiding this proof of their union on the sofa seat between their knees brushing close, and the young people all chatted on together about nothing very much, while Colin’s finger–tips brushed against Richard’s palm – and Richard was so undeservedly happy it was all he could do not to weep.

♦

### Katie

They lay there in Bradley’s bed, wrapped up together, naked and happy and sore with satiation. Peaceful. Katie knew better now what Colin meant when he extolled the virtues of contentment. She could see the point of it now, and wondered why he hadn’t been able to conceive of finding such a thing with Bradley James, when Katie had fallen into it so very easily. ‘I love you, you know,’ she murmured, just very quietly without really intending to. A momentary stab of fear –

– before Bradley’s arms tightened around her. But he mumbled into the pillow by her ear, ‘Dunno why. I’m no match for you.’

‘Of course you are. We’re a wonderful match.’

‘Not intellectually.’

She was about to simply scoff at this as nonsense, but after a moment’s thought Katie said, ‘Don’t you think a good heart counts for anything? When it comes to relationships, it certainly counts for more than a good brain.’

‘I  _know_ I don’t have a good brain.’

‘Idiot. Of course you do. I have a good heart and an excellent brain. You have an excellent heart and a good brain. Doesn’t that make us a truly awesome match…?’

After a brief silence, Bradley lifted up onto an elbow so they could face each other as they talked. ‘So, you know I’m going home to Devon for my birthday? For the weekend.’

‘Yes…’ she said, heart suddenly beating hard. She knew where this was going.

‘Come with me. Meet my Mum.’

Katie smiled. ‘I’d love to, of course I would. If it’s not too soon. Is it too soon?’

‘For us?’

‘Yeah. And for her.’

‘She’ll be happy. She’ll _adore_ you.’

‘Well, then. What girl is gonna knock back a little more adoration in her life?’

Bradley grinned at her, just briefly, before sobering again, and considering her carefully. Then he announced, ‘I’m yours, you know.’

‘To do with what I will?’ she asked lightly.

‘Yes.’

‘Good. I’m glad.’

And Bradley James said, ‘I love you, Katie McGrath.’

‘I love you,’ she murmured. And they kissed, and then they started over again. It was as right and as true as anything Katie had ever felt.

♦

### Colin

Richard was lying back against the pillows, and Colin was straddling his chest, caught between the eager pressure of Richard’s mouth suckling his cock and the insistent intrusion of Richard’s fingers in his arse. Colin moaned and swayed, the pleasure going to his head like strong red wine – clutched at the headboard to stay upright as he stretched and arched and gently rocked his hips – moaned raggedly as Richard’s other hand crept in from behind, between his legs, to tug at Colin’s balls. It was both too much and not enough – it was perfect – he wanted to come, _god_ , Colin _wanted to come_ , it was going to be _amazing_ – but he also wanted to be here for ever, caught between these complex sensations, broaching and broached at once, both rhythmic and chaotic, and _god_ the things Richard did to his balls, they just thought he was the best thing _ever_ , and –

‘Oh!’ he was so close, but despite the utter perfection, he didn’t want to finish like this, he wanted them to finish together. ‘Wait – Wait –’ Carefully disengaging, and Richard charmingly reluctant to let him go. ‘More o’ that later,’ Colin begged, promised, pleaded.

‘Any time you like,’ Richard agreed, looking rather pleased with himself – but then he cried ‘Oh!’ as Colin eased back and sank down onto him, taking the man in, all of him, all of him, god it was wonderful, and such a fuckin’ luxury not have to worry about condoms any more, to just feel Richard himself smooth and hard within him, flesh against flesh – Richard’s hands clutching now at Colin’s knees –

– and suddenly Richard was coming, coming, coming with a groan of protest – and he hardly had to touch Colin – their hands met and meshed around Colin’s cock, and the seed splashed out of him, and then Richard cupped his balls and rolled them in his palm, and Colin just sat there reeling, possessed and possessing, and the pleasure flowing on and on…

Until at last he collapsed, and Richard caught him in loving arms. ‘I’ve got you, I’ve got you now.’

And Colin groaned happily. ‘Don’t ever let me go.’

♦

Colin was thirsty, so he padded out barefoot to the kitchen, leaving Richard deeply slumbering, and once he’d drunk a tumbler of water he noticed there was a message on his phone: he’d missed a call from Bradley. It wasn’t midnight yet, so he texted a reply, and the mobile rang a moment later. ‘Hey,’ said Colin.

‘Hey.’

‘Hope you had a good birthday. It’s today, isn’t it? Just.’

‘Yeah, thanks. It’s been great. Katie and Mum are… Well, as predicted, they are determined to adore each other – and in fact I think they actually  _do_. I just made myself kinda redundant.’

Colin snorted a laugh. ‘Like either of them are ever gonna think that.’

Bradley sighed, sounding happy. ‘How’s, uh… How’s Richard?’

‘Amazin’.’

‘Yeah, uh – Col. I was an idiot. I shouldn’t have given you so much grief over that.’

‘That’s all right, you were just looking out for me.’

‘It was never that I don’t like _Richard_ , you know…? I mean, he’s _great_! Really.’

‘I know.’ He let out a breath. While they were apologising… ‘Look. I was stupid not to take you seriously. When you liked me.’

‘That’s all right, I’m used to not being taken seriously.’

‘Bradley –’ he said shortly.

‘Sorry. I mean – Well. You weren’t wrong as it turned out, were you? So you were probably doing the best thing by me, really.’

‘It made a difference to me. You’ve made such a difference to me, Bradley James. I’m not the man I was in February.’

‘Better, yeah? Happier.’

‘Yeah.’

‘Me, too,’ said Bradley. ‘Both of those things. Same here.’

They were silent for a while. It was a comfortable kind of silence. Colin watched the clock on the oven tick over from 11:58 to 11:59. He sighed gustily. ‘Ah hell… It’s still your birthday. If you don’t wanna remember this in the morning, you can put it down to me being gay or drunk or in a state of post–coital bliss or something.’

‘But you’re not drunk.’

‘I am definitely the other things.’

‘All right,’ said Bradley, gamely. And of course he knew what was coming.

‘I love you, yeah? I didn’t think we were gonna be friends. Not _real_ friends. This is all kinda unexpected for me. But maybe that’s how the best sorts of relationships work, I dunno. What I do know is, whatever happens with _Merlin_ , you’re not getting rid of me any time soon.’

‘Good,’ said Bradley. ‘All of the above. Ditto.’ He took a breath, audibly girding himself up. And even though the clock now ticked over to 12:00, he still said what both did and didn’t need saying at all: ‘Col. You know. You’re one of my best friends. And I love you, too.’

‘So,’ said Colin. ‘Happy birthday, then.’

‘The happiest,’ Bradley agreed. ‘The very best of all.’

♦ ♦ ♦


End file.
